


Numbers

by DefenestratingDanika



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Content, Trigger warning: abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:22:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefenestratingDanika/pseuds/DefenestratingDanika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac Lahey was in desperate need of something he could control in his life. He found peace in counting, numbering things until they made sense, until order was found. Some things, though, no matter how many ways he measured or counted, could not be ordered. </p><p>Stiles Stilinski was one of those things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Isaac

There are fifty-two weeks in a year, seven days in a week, twenty-four hours in a day, sixty minutes in an hour, sixty seconds in a minute, and one thousand miliseconds in a second. There are ninety-six ceiling tiles, thirty stools, fifteen tables, and twenty-four students all filling one chemistry classroom. Everything at face value has a number: the number of pages in his journal (one hundred), the number of sinks attached to the wall (eight), the number of bruises on his arms (six). Numbering led to order and order led to the sanity that he desperatly needed to feel.

"Who can answer problem number three from last night's homework?," Mr. Harris asked, pacing down the aisle like a drill sargent examining his cadets for any flaw, any mistake that he can point out.

  
 _'Don't pick me, don't pick me,'_ he chanted in his head as Harris stopped in front of his table. _'Of fucking course'_.

  
"Mr. Lahey, can you answer number three or did you fail to do your homework once again?," Harris asked, already knowing the answer. Isaac fought off rolling his eyes. _'No I didn't do my homework just like the last three fucking times you asked if I had done my homework,'_ he thought to himself, biting his lip for second, as if it would somehow keep his reply inside.

  
"No sir," Isaac replied, blue eyes staring at his left sleeve while three fingers idly played with it. Harris rolled his eyes.

  
"Of course you didn't. Mr. Lahey, if you allow your brain cells to deteriorate any farther you might just give Stilinski a run for his money." Fuck did he hate this guy. If he didn't like kids, why the hell did he become a teacher? Someone let out a cough, causing Isaac and Harris to look forward (three seats forward and one to the right, to be precise).

  
"Uh, for the record, I did my homework," Stiles pointed out, waving his right hand in one of his normal gestures. Harris rolled his eyes once more.

  
"Well every dog does have his day," he said bluntly, almost as if he was challenging Stiles to actually say something vaguely intelligent. Stiles rolled his eyes in obvious annoyance, sinking slightly in his stool and tapping his pencil in a sporatic cadence.

  
Mr. Harris moved on to his next victim, _thank God_. Lydia Martin answered the question so easily you would have thought she had been asked how to spell her name. Her pink lips rounded out each word with ease, her red hair bouncing slightly with each perfected move of her head. Isaac didn't notice, however. His mind was occupied with something else.

  
Three seats forward and one to the right sat Stiles, tapping away with his pencil. Isaac tried counting the beats, tried finding the timing, but for some reason he always fell short. It was almost as if there was no pattern to be found, no numbers to be assigned.

  
Stiles had always irked Isaac (minus the time when they were little kids with much bigger fish to fry than facing adulthood and trying to survive at home) and this was why. Stiles never fell in a cadence, a rhythym, a pattern at all. No matter how hard Isaac tried, Stiles could not be numbered. Everything he did, from his wild gestures to his sporatic walking pattern, was sudden and never repeated. Isaac was pretty sure that Stiles heart beat didn't even beat regularly (not that he wanted that; it would probably be harmful). Still, he frustrated Isaac to no end.

  
Isaac stared at Stiles' pencil tapping (up down right left left down left), nearly falling off his stool in concentration. That quickly came to an end when he was snapped out of his haze as the bell for the next class rang and the world around him began to shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah this is my first ever Teen Wolf Fic and I hope you guys enjoy it! Any critiques/comments are awesome! =D


	2. Isaac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things in Isaac's life that repeat, have fallen into a pattern. By pure chance, Erica Reyes became one of those things.

Students flooded into the cafeteria, competing through laughter and friendship for empty tables and whatever entree the school had so graced them with sloppily on this particular day. Isaac hesitantly stabbed at his share of the lunchroom concoction (the cafeteria worker had said it was beef and broccoli but the last time Isaac checked, beef and broccoli didn't include eggplant and Lima beans). Isaac would let out a groan if he didn't think his meal would groan back.

  
"You know, it would be nice to have a meal that I don't have to perform an exorcism on before I ate it," came an all to familiar voice. Isaac looked up, his blue eyes meeting brown ones and frizzy, tied back, blonde hair. Erica sat across from him, staring down her lunch.

  
"I'm sure you will be fine as long as you eat it before it eats you,"Isaac said simply, noting the 2 badly-made friendship bracelets on her right wrist. 1 was from Boyd and the other from Isaac. It was strange because honestly, Isaac wasn't really sure if he was friends with Erica. He had gone to school with Erica for as long as he could remember yet he hadn't actually talked to her until the second semester of their freshman year.

  
 _Isaac sat alone in the cafeteria, stabbing at the layer of wax sandwiched between two blocks of cardboard that the lunch ladies had inaccurately named a 'grilled cheese'. Suddenly, a not so pleased looking Erica Reyes slammed her backpack on the table, sitting down in her seat. She looked like she actually put effort into how she looked, her hair actually straightened and Isaac was pretty damn sure she was wearing make-up. Well, at least make-up was the only thing he could guess had streaked down her cheeks from her red eyes._

  
_"Uh, do you need something?," Isaac asked, more to learn why the fuck she was sitting there than to actually help._

  
_"It's a free country, I can sit anywhere I want. Unless this seats taken by one of your nonexistant friends," she bit out shockingly. If she wasn't crying, Isaac would have kindly told her to go fuck herself. Instead he settled on rolling his eyes and handing her his napkin._

  
_"Here, you have make up on your face," Isaac pointed out as she took the napkin from him. He watched carefully as she wiped onyx streaks off her face, neglecting the science project that was passed as his lunch._

  
_"There goes all that work. Wonderful," Erica muttered, sniffing to hold back more tears as she wiped her face clean. Isaac shifted uncomfortably, not really sure what to do in this situation._

  
_"Well if it matters, I think you look better without all that junk on your face," Isaac uttered with a shrug, more because he felt obliged to speak than because he actually believed it. The smile she gave him, her eyes lighting up like he had just deemed her fashion week-ready, made him not regret saying it nonetheless._

  
"Earth to Isaac," Erica said, clapping a couple of times (3 times) to get his attention. Isaac blinked, clearly being brought back to the present and earning an eyeroll from his lunchmate. She had eaten lunch with him nearly every day (Isaac stopped counting around the 190s when Erica assured him that she wasn't going anywhere) since the 'Make-up Incident'. Isaac raised an eyebrow, wondering what she wanted.

  
"I asked if you had read  Frankenstein yet," Erica said, rolling her eyes. He liked that she asked him if he had actually done his homework instead of just assuming he really was a slacker (which, in a way, he guessed he kind of was).

  
"Nope," Isaac said with a sheepish grin, receiving another eye roll. Erica quickly began informing him about the book, going so far as to tell him the answers to the questions on today's test (what a saint).

  
A lot of times Isaac felt weird about how him and Erica fell into this 'companionship' by such chance circumstances. Sometimes he thinks that if he had skipped lunch that day, stayed in the library, he wouldn't have ever met Erica. The thought always made him feel nauseous. Some days all he did was listen to Erica complain about things and people he didn't care about and he thinks about how peaceful life could have been if he never met her. Then there were days where Erica would do the most amazing things, like bake Isaac cupcakes for his birthday even though he hadn't even mentioned it approaching (it took all of Isaac's restraint not to cry like the pathetic little shit he was).

  
Days like that and the little things Erica did (like not making Isaac talk about his injuries or treat him like he was just a fucking burden on her all the time) are reasons why Isaac never minded going to lunch, regardless of the shittiest cafeteria food on the west coast. It was also the reason why he spent a week in the library with Boyd, learning how to make friendship bracelets for Erica's birthday present (it was probably one of the most angering experiences he had ever faced but he knew he would do it a thousand times again to make someone look at him like she did, like he was a worth something).

  
"You are so lucky I have English before you do,"Erica said, shaking her head with a slightest sigh.

  
"Yeah yeah, I know. My life would be empty without you," Isaac said with only half sarcasm, earning him a cheeky grin from the female.

  
Isaac left the cafeteria that day, feeling as if this day wasn't going to be as bad as the morning had led him to expect.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"All good things come to an end," Isaac muttered, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. His phone read '2:37 A.M.'. It had been exactly 93 minutes since his dad had stomped into his room to sleep off tonight's round of whiskey. Isaac let out a shaky breath, feeling the bruises bleed from his ribs, into every breath that he took.

  
Tonight hadn't been the worse. It featured the staples of his relationship with his father: some kicking, some punching, so much disappointment and hatred it made Isaac question why he even bothered getting up in the morning. Still, it wasn't the worst. The only thing that confined Isaac tonight was himself and the suffocating fear that encompassed every inch of his body. At least he hadn't been put inside the freezer. He supposed it was the closest to a silver lining that he would ever reach.

  
Isaac winced slightly, trying to slow his heart rate and shove the panic down. Emotions burned from his chest to his throat like vomit as he tried counting the bathroom tiles (52, he didn't even have to question it), taking in deep breaths, accompanied with sharp pains that were numbing into familiarity.

  
Two shaking fingers grazed his right cheek bone, watching the bruise already begin to turn a dirty shade of purple. _'Great, another bruise I can't hide.'_ Suddenly, things felt smaller, like he was preparing to suffocate.

  
Isaac pulled off his shirt, uncovering bruises both fading to and away from his skin along with scars that he would much rather forget. He ripped off his pants and boxers, turned on the shower, and jumped in, not waiting for it to adjust to the right temperature. He let the water encompass his body from 8 different spouts on the shower head, closing his eyes and listening to the drops bounce off of 3 walls and 1 nylon curtain. He took another, slower breath, letting the water wash away everything from dirt to fear to every insecurity that everyone could see no matter how thick the sweater he wore was.

  
Isaac leaned forward, resting his head against the wall in front of him, closing his eyes. He slowly chanted to himself _'It's okay, it's going to be okay'_ , repeating it until he couldn't hear the water raining down on him or the obnoxious snoring two doors down.

  
 _'It's okay, it's going to be okay'_ drummed inside his head. But he was wrong. Things were far from being okay.

  
And they were probably never going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I would like to say a HUGE thank you for everyone that took the time out to kudos/comment/read my story! You guys made my day and I love you.
> 
> Woah, chapter 2 was a lot longer than chapter 1. I PROMISE THIS STORY IS GOING SOMEWHERE. I just wanted to establish the relationship between Erica and Isaac so, you know, he doesn't just talk to Stiles the whole story. This is my first time writing for Erica so I hope she was pretty in character. Anyways, any comments/critiques are very welcomed! :)
> 
> P.S. I PROMISE STILES WILL BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, GUYS.
> 
> P.P.S. I would like to leave a lovely thanks to my Beta-reader http://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLevi ! He is one of my greatest friends and a fellow Stisaac shipper. :D


	3. Isaac

Isaac watched with little interest as Harris paced rhythmically back and forth at the front of the classroom ( _1 2 3 4 stop, turn, 1 2 3 4 stop, turn_ ). The tip of his pencil idly danced in his notebook, repeatedly drawing a pattern of 3, interlocking spirals. 

  
So far the day was going by just as every other day; the pain in his ribs was more of a dull drumming as opposed to a sharp burning sensation. Breathing didn't particularly get "easier". Breathing never really got easier; Isaac just learned how to deal with it. He'd always figured that he would be hard to asphixiate because he was already so used to suffocating.

  
"Mr. Lahey, please repeat what I just said," came Harris' voice, snapping Isaac back to reality. Harris raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer that was clearly not coming. Isaac looked down at his notes, seeing that the only thing he actually wrote down was the date. ' _Fuck,'_  he thought, trying to quickly throw something together. He was saved, thankfully, by Harris' impatience.

  
"As I was saying," he began, rolling his eyes at Isaac and stepping to the left once, twice- "I will be breaking you up in sets of partners. Each of you will be given a topic related to chemistry and must make a presentation, explaining your topic to the class." Isaac rolled his eyes. Assignments like these were always the worst. Why should he have to teach the class anything? Last time Isaac checked, Harris was the teacher and he was the student.

  
"Now,"Harris said, picking up a list and leaning against his desk, facing the students. With ease, he began partnering up students, not even batting an eyelash at the hushed noises of excitement/dissapointment. Isaac's body visibly relaxed when he heard his name dueted with Boyd's. His eyes trailed over to Erica who didn't look particularly pleased that both of her first partner options were now occupied. Isaac tried to shoot her an apologetic grin but she didn't really seem to notice.

  
"And last but not always least, Erica Reyes and Stiles Stilinski will be teaching us all about the periodic table," Harris declared like someone actually gave a damn. Isaac couldn't help but think that Erica must be very uncomfortable about this. After all, she had a crush on Stilinski for a while ( _6 years_ ) before she moved on to Boyd.

  
The bell rang and everyone shifted into motion, shoving books into bags and skating stools across tile flooring. Isaac grabbed his bag, and slinked out of the door, only to be grabbed to the side by Erica as soon as he was out of the classroom. He blinked, quickly taking note that he wasn't just faced with Erica and Boyd, but Erica, Boyd, and  _Stiles_. Isaac tensed slightly, leaning against the wall as some sort of attempt at cool casuality. Unsurprisingly, Erica was the first to talk.

  
"We are going to meet up at my place after school. I figured four heads were better than two," she said with a smile. Isaac couldn't help but wonder if the whole reason she was inviting him and Boyd over was to avoid awkwardly interacting with just Stiles. A year ago she would have shot Isaac dead for a chance to be alone with Stiles.  _Oh how time changes people._

  
"Is that okay with you?,"Erica asked, knowing that Isaac wasn't usually available for impromptu hangouts. Or any hangouts for that matter. Isaac nodded his head calmly. His father wasn't supposed to be home until late, meaning Isaac wasn't on dinner duty. He loved days like this, days where he usually could avoid his father completely. Erica grinned.

  
"Good! Are you planning on riding your bike to my house?," she asked. Isaac was about to confirm her expectation when another voice cut in.  
"I can give you a ride," Stiles said, automatically getting the attention of Isaac. He was pretty sure this was the longest Stiles had gone without talking.   
"You can put your bike in the back of my jeep," Stiles continued easily.

  
"Alright, sounds like a plan,"Erica stated, finishing off the deal. Isaac took in a deep breath, trying not to completely lose control of the conversation.  
"Uh it's alright. I don't want to be any trouble," Isaac said smoothly, trying to decline the invite without being a total asshole. If he could avoid spending a full car ride with just the enigma that was Stiles Stilinski, he would.

  
"Nah man, it wouldn't be any trouble," Stiles said simply, shooting him a grin. Isaac could almost feel his heart stop, just for a second. Stiles' smile reminded him of when Erica smiled at him, smiling at him like he was actually worth something. Isaac sighed inwardly, regaining his composure. People who gave him looks like that were pretty much his kryptonite. Isaac nodded slightly.

  
"Okay sure, sounds great."

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
It had only been 5 minutes and Isaac was using all of his energy not to tell Stiles to pull over so that he could grab his bike and pedal the opposite direction of this scenario as quickly as posible. The only sound (other than the rumbling of the jeep) was Stiles fingers tapping to some rythym that only God could possibly understand. Clearly he was tapping to something offbeat in his head because nothing was playing through the radio. Isaac felt like Stiles was tapping the patience out of him.

  
"So," Stiles said suddenly, finally breeching the silence. From what Isaac knew about Stiles, he figured that silence wasn't really his thing. He wasn't actually sure that both of them feeling awkward really helped at all with making things better.

  
"What happened to your face?," Stiles asked without a single ounce of tact. Isaac tensed, remembering the bruise on his right cheekbone from the night before. He hated when his dad marked him where others could see. It felt like all of Isaac's flaws were painted on his skin, fully displayed for everyone to marvel at. He shifted slightlly, momentarily trying to find some sort of comfort in his own skin.

  
"I fell," Isaac stated, trying to count his breath until he began to feel a bit more relaxed.

  
"You fell? On what?," Stiles asked.

  
"The ground," Isaac said bluntly, clearly ending the conversation. His fingers itched for the MP3 player in his pocket, wanting to sepearte himself into music and out of the growing car tension. However, there was no way to listen to your music player in a car without looking like a prick.

  
Stiles let out a sigh, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a CD with clearly practiced ease. He slid the CD into the disk drive, letting the poignent sound of guitars fill the car.

  
"Is this City and Color?,"Isaac asked, slightly surprised. Stiles grinned.

  
"Dude you like City and Color?,"Stiles asked, a clear jump in the mood radiating from the 16 year old.

  
"I've heard of him. Never really listened to them, though," Isaac said simply, shrugging a bit. Stiles shrugged.

  
"Well at least you've heard of him. Scott says that the only people who listen to what I listen to spend their nights snapping to poetry in a coffee shop," Stiles said with an exasperated sigh. Isaac nearly smiled at that.

  
"I've also heard Scott singing Taylor Swift in the locker room so his opinion on music is pretty much non-applicable," Isaac said simply, shrugging. Stiles let out a short laugh.  
"Truer words about Scott and music have never been spoken," he said with a grin that kind of derailed Isaac's train of thought for a second. Before Isaac had the chance to speak again, they were pulling into Erica's driveway.

  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By 6 o'clock the group had fallen into somewhat of a comfortable pattern. Stiles pretty much had something to say about everything and Erica seemed happy to have someone to talk to that wasn't an asshole half of the time or Boyd. The more Stiles talked, the less Isaac wanted to dislike him. It wasn't as if the shorter teenager had stopped annoying him all together (that was entirely not the case), but there was something kind of intriguing about Stiles. Isaac was honestly curious about how he even functioned. This kid took the whole "move to the beat of your own drum" thing literally.

  
Boyd was another story, looking like he was physically straining not to roll his eyes everytime Stiles opened his mouth. Stiles either didn't notice or didn't care. To be honest, Isaac was glad Stiles was there. This way he had someone to suffer Boyd and Erica's very prominent flirtations with. After a particularly intimate section of eyelash batting and smiling, Erica stood up.

  
"Well I think we have earned a break. I'm going to go pop something in the oven for us," she said with a slight stretch before walking to the door. She stopped, clearly giving Boyd a look.

  
"I'll come help you," Boyd said in a tone that Isaac guessed was supposed to be smooth. He stood up, quickly following Erica out of the room, leaving Isaac and Stiles alone on Erica's bed covered in the remnants of chemistry projects. Absentmindedly, Isaac began taking note of the books ( _4_ ), notebooks ( _4_ ), pencils ( _3_ ), and pens ( _1_ ) until a voice interupted him.

  
"I have a feeling that we won't be eating any time soon," Stiles commented.

  
"Yeah, that's for sure," Isaac assured. Stiles let out a sigh, laying back against Erica's pillows next to Isaac, his legs bent up at his knees to avoid kicking anything school related. Isaac leaned against Erica's headboard, figuring that he might as well get comfortable because he was going to be waiting a while.

  
"So...," Stiles began, trying to fill the silence. Isaac made note that he did that often. Isaac wasn't going to ask why silence bothered him so much. He figured it would fucking suck to have someone point out all of your mannerisms.

  
"If you don't like City and Color, what do you listen to?," Stiles asked.

  
"Music," Isaac replied bluntly, flinching slightly when Stiles exageratedly rolled his eyes, shooting him a look that screamed 'No shit, Sherlock'.

  
"I mean, I like a lot of stuff. I guess you could say I like alternative music,"Isaac continued. Stiles nodded slightly.

  
"Alright. What are your top five favorite bands?," he asked. Isaac bit his lip in concentration. It was rare for him to actually talk to someone about music. Boyd and Erica weren't really into the same stuff he was and they were pretty much where he drew the line of people he casually talks to.

  
"That's actually pretty hard. I like The 1975, Bastille, The Smiths, The Black Keys, and The Arctic Monkeys,"Isaac stated before adding,"There is so much other good music out there, though."

  
"Yeah, I agree with you; this is kind of a hard question. I shoud have thought it through,"Stiles said with a sheepish smile. "It's cool that you like The Smiths, though. They are fucking great."

  
"People who don't like The Smiths don't like good music," Isaac stated, earning a Stilinski-brand grin.

  
"For sure," he agreed, pausing for a moment to think. "I guess my favorite groups are Two Door Cinema Club, Matt and Kim, The Smiths, Foster The People, and City and Color."  
"The only Foster The People song I actually know is the one that was always on the radio," Isaac admitted.

  
"Pumped Up Kicks? Isaac, you seriously need to get cultured," Stiles said, earning an eyeroll.

  
"The only band you know that I listed is The Smiths so I don't really think you have room to talk," Isaac retorted causing Stiles to laugh like they sat around having conversations about music like this everyday. It was kind of weird, just sitting in Erica's bed while she was probably (definitley) making out with Boyd somewhere and talking to Stiles. Weird, yeah, but also kind of nice.

  
"So,"Isaac began, taking his turn to prevent the silence, "City and Color, huh? I kind of expected you to like, I don't know, more upbeat, happy stuff because you are, you know...," he trailed off, wondering how to open his mouth without being offensive.

  
"Because I'm upbeat and happy?," Stiles finished for him, recieving a nod from Isaac. Stiles shrugged.

  
"I don't know, it's kind of stupid,"Stiles said, crossing his arms behind his head. "I just kind of like what I like. I used to ask my mom the same question. Sometimes she would listen to really hard stuff like Alice In Chains and Motley Crue and I would always ask why she listened to stuff like that. Then one day she told me that music existed to connect people to themselves. She said that music expressed and said things that you couldn't do youself. I guess that's why I listen to what I listen," Stiles said, running a hand through the hair he grew out this past summer. He let out a sigh, shooting Isaac a soft smile. "Sorry, you probably thought that was really stupid."

  
"You're wrong,"Isaac said quickly, taking Stiles slightly by surprise. "That was the exact opposite of fucking stupid. _Jesus_. Stiles, that was pretty fucking on point." And it was. It was probably the most genuine thing Isaac had ever heard and he couldn't agree more. Stiles' smile turned into a fully honest grin before Erica called for them from the kitchen, changing the subject.

  
"Finally the food's ready. I'm starving, man! I thought I was going to waste away to nothing before Erica and Boyd stop sucking face," Stiles exclaimed, slinging his legs off of the bed and standing up. Isaac followed in suit, trailing after Stiles as he walked out of the room. He was kind of thrown off by Stiles' sudden confession. It was probably the last thing he expected to come out of his mouth.

  
Isaac kind of hoped it wouldn't be the last time Stiles surprised him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS PRETTY LONG, GUYS. I hope Stiles seemed in character.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for all of the support. My heart smiles every time you guys comment/leave kudos. Keep it coming! :D
> 
> I'd also like to thank my lovely beta Levi! http://archiveofourown.org/works/965957 go check out his first ever Stisaac fic! :)


	4. Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted to try something new so I wrote this chapter in Stiles perspective!

Scott sucked. Scott sucked monumentally. Scott sucked like a fucking hoover vac and a Godzilla-sized anteater got into a fight and destroyed all of New York City at avenging proportions; proportions so large, Stan Lee made a cameo. People laughed, people cried, Tokyo was also destroyed by the chaos of this Marvel-worthy catastrpohe. Credits roll, the audience leaves, and Scott still sucked like the douchebag he was.

  
"I know we made plans but Allison's parents aren't going to be home tonight," Scott explained over the phone. Stiles rolled his eyes.

  
"Yeah yeah, I get it: Hoes before Bros," Stiles said, absentmindedly pacing through his bedroom. He could practically see Scott giving him the puppy-eyes look over the phone.

  
"Don't be like that, man. You know you would do the same if it were Lydia," Scott tried to argue. Stiles rolled his eyes again. In all honesty, he wasn't really that into Lydia anymore. Pining after Lydia was like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football; try as he might, he was always going to fall on his ass and be labeled a "blockhead".

  
"Yeah, I get it, dude," Stiles said with a sigh of defeat. "Go have fun you crazy kid."

  
"Thanks Stiles! I'll make up for it, I swear. How about pizza and video games at my place Friday?," Scott asked, clearly trying to avoid any anger being thrown his way.

  
"Yeah, sounds good. Now go get your girl before you drive me insane," Stiles joked half-heartedly, listening to the sound of Scott's laugh before it was quickly cut off by a dial tone. Stiles hung up and fell backwards on to the bed, letting out an overdramatic sigh in the process.

  
He was generally happy for Scott except for when he ditched him (wich happened way to frequently). Stiles let go of his phone, placing it on to the bed-side table, frowning. This was going to be a shitty Wednesday afternoon.

  
Stiles lazily rolled off of his bed, barely catching himself on his legs. With a sigh, he slid his belt out of his pants loops, tossing it on the dresser.

  
"No friends, no pants," Stiles muttered to himself, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, pulling them off of his legs with little tact and throwing them into his laundry hamper. There are very few occassions that Stiles will ever face where he would choose to wear pants over being pantless if given the choice.

  
Stiles wonders around his room, looking for something to do. He finds a lacrosse ball laying on a shelf and swiftly grabs it. He keeps himself busy for a minute, just tossing the object up and down, until he fucks up and catches the lacrosse ball with his right shoulder.

  
"Shit!," Stiles cursed, sweeping the ball off the floor and shoving it back on the shelf. He rubs his shoulder gently, wincing slightly when his hand hit the recently impaled spot on his shoulder. Yeah, that was definetly going to bruise. It's times like this when he wished he didn't have his mother's skin that bruised like a fucking peach. With a sigh, he tried to steer his mind in a different direction.

  
He paced around his room, attempting several different tasks to occupy his time and coming up short each time. With another sigh, he ungracefully plopped his Ghost Buster Boxers-clad ass in his computer chair, waking up his laptop. He knew he should turn his computer off more often, but he was afraid that one time he would turn off ol' Gwen and she would never turn back on. It was definetly not worth the risk.

  
He absentmindedly began to whistle to the tune of Another One Bites The Dust by Queen, his leg vibrating unconsciously, and quickly went to the tumblr bookmark. He scrolled through his dash a little too quickly for most people, but at the perfect pace for Stiles, stopping to like a couple Doctor Who and Avengers posts (and reblogging an Oliver and Company post because hey, it was practically his childhood).

  
Stiles paused, landing on a post with a download link to City and Color's latest album. It would have been great if Stiles didn't already go out and buy it. It was a good album though so he really didn't have any regrets. City and Color was some quality shit and he wished more people listened to them. No one in his social circle (the tiny little thing that was more of a square than a circle but Stiles never was a geometry fan anyways) even knew who they were.

  
Suddenly his mind was filled with the picture of perfectly golden curls and eyes so blue they should honestly be illegal. _'Isaac!'_ Isaac didn't listen to City and Color but he did know who they were and that was a start. Isaac actually didn't know most of the bands Stiles had mentioned. Then again, Stiles didn't know half of the bands Isaac mentioned so they were pretty much on an even playing field. Still, Isaac had mentioned The Smiths so the kid had a lot of potential in his book.

  
Suddenly it was Stiles mission to expose Isaac to good music (well, music that Stiles liked and thought every other decent person should like). Before he was really thinking about it, he was ruffling through his desk drawers, on a mission to find a blank CD.

  
"I know I have one somewhere," Stiles muttered, finding one stuffed in one of the bottom drawer barried under years of nostalgia and lack of organization skills. Stiles shut the drawer with his foot, a very pleased grin on his face when he noticed that the CD wasn't scratched all to hell.

  
Stiles popped the CD into his disk drive, closing it gently to avoid damaging his baby. He pulled up windows media player, looking through his extensive library of music. He contemplated just burning him a City and Color CD but no, that would be too easy. Stiles needed to expose Isaac to more than one good band. Also Stiles didn't want to run into the possibility of Isaac hating City and Color and ruining this musical opportunity (though Isaac seemed to like City and Color on the ride back from Erica's the night before; he seemed not really ecstatic or anything, but more content).

  
Stiles dragged three City and Color songs onto the "burn" list, trying to get a variety. He quickly started dragging songs that ranged from Two Door Cinema Club to Jimmy Eat World to Fleetwood Mac. He worked quickly, rarely second guessing himself. He cursed vocally when he practically ran out of space.

  
Stiles rolled his eyes at the computer. It was 2013 and he still couldn't burn hours of music onto one CD. ' _Thanks Obama_ '. He was aware that it was not the fault of the 44th president but Stiles just liked having someone to blame his problems on.

  
With a sigh, he looked over his CD. He noted that there were sixteen tracks, a perfectly even number. Not that Stiles ever really cared about evens and odds. They were just numbers. Without a thought, Stiles shuffled the CD, making sure that there was never two songs by the same artist coinciding. He had read a wikihow article about making the perfect mixed CD for his 14th birthday party and knew that putting the same band together was a big no-no.

  
With one more look over, Stiles noted that there was just the smallest bit of space left. Suddenly, he had a look of determination as he scrolled through his library, looking for the perfect song to end the CD. And idea hit him like a brick, his long fingers quickly directing the computer to The Smiths. He highlighted his favorite song by the band, adding it flawlessly as the 17th track on the CD. A grin of triumph and an excited fist bump erupted from the sixteen year old as the CD began to burn.

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Everything seemed so simple yesterday but now as Stiles stood in the entrance of the cafeteria, staring across the room at a pile of limbs filled in a baby blue sweater, sitting opposite from a very animated blonde, he was starting to have second thoughts. He wondered if it was weird to make a mixed CD with some of his favorite songs on it and give it to a guy that he barely knew.

  
Yeah, it was definetly weird, but he wasn't going to waste such a musical masterpeice.

  
Running his fingers through the up-styled part of his hair and adjusting his backpack, Stiles began to move, narrowly avoiding people who weren't paying attention to their surroundings. 'Fucking teenagers,' Stiles thought, sounding more like his dad than he wanted to admit. As he arrived at his destination, he slipped onto the bench next to Isaac a lot less smoothly than he was hoping. It would take a blind man to miss the judging, confused looks that Erica and Isaac were aiming at him.' _It's alright; just be cool_.'

  
" 'Sup?," Stiles asked with a slight head nod, trying to appear casual. After all, it was just social interaction? What in the world could go wrong?

  
"Uh, nothing? What's up with you?," Erica asked, not really hiding her overall uncertainty. Stiles was 100% certain this would be a lot easier if at least one of them seemed interested in Stiles sitting there.

  
"Nothing much,"Stiles said simply, pulling off his backpack and placing it next to him on the bench."Oh Isaac, I have something for you," he said in the most chill way he possible could have, shifting through his bag and pulling out the CD.

  
Isaac's eyes widened and Stiles couldn't help but notice the way his blue sweater made his eyes illuminate in every cliche way possible. Stiles held out the CD and Isaac took it hesitantly, like he was afraid that this was somehow some weird joke. Stiles could feel his leg begin to shake in slight anticipation as Isaac slowly examined the cover filled with swirls and doodles.

  
"'Stiles' Rad CD For Isaac'?," Isaac read out loud, his eyes twinkling over the homemade, monochrome cover. Stiles nodded slightly, not sure if he was really supposed to respond. He subconciously began tapping his fingers on the lunch table, watching undistractedly as Isaac turned the CD over to the back, holding it like it was something incredibly fragile. He examined it for what felt like an eternity to Stiles, not even saying a word. He was surprisingly greatful when Erica broke some of the tension.

  
"What's on it?," she asked, not specifying if the question was aimed for Stiles or Isaac. Isaac shifted slightly on the bench, his eyes not moving from the CD case, and began to read off the track list.

  
"1. Don't Stop (Color On The Wall)- Foster The People  
2\. Kids- Two Door Cinema Club  
3\. When You Were Young- The Killers  
4\. Comin' Home- City and Color  
5\. Not In This Town- Two Door Cinema Club  
6\. Breathing Underwater- The Metric  
7\. Houdini-Foster The People  
8\. What You Know- Two Door Cinema Club  
9\. Sleeping Sickness- City and Colour  
10\. Heroes- David Bowie  
11\. Day Old Hate- City and Colour  
12\. Landslide- Fleetwood Mac  
13\. Block After Block- Matt and Kim  
14\. A Praise Chorus- Jimmy Eat World  
15\. Good Ol' Fashioned Nightmare- Matt and Kim  
16\. Tenenbaum- The Paper Kites  
17\. How Soon Is Now- The Smiths "

  
Stiles couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable hearing Isaac read the track list out loud. It was almost like he was trying to pass some sort of judgement. Suddenly he was regretting making the CD at all. It was almost like he was incapable of not making a fool of himself.

  
"Uh, I hope you like it. It's cool if you don't, though,"Stiles said, trying to sound dismissive even though he knew he would be royally dissapointed if Isaac didn't like the mix. Honestly, Stiles had no idea why it mattered to him so much. Then, Isaac looked at Stiles with eyes so blue he could swim in them and smiled.

  
Stiles could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven because he was clearly staring at an angel.

  
"Stiles, this is actually really cool. Thanks," Isaac said, looking at him like he had just hung the moon for him and wrote his name in the stars (and just for a moment, he really felt like he would). Stiles snapped his jaw shut, noticing that he was staring. He let out a slight cough.

  
"No man, it's no problem," Stiles said with a grin as the bell in the cafeteria began ringing and everyone was put into the motion, leaving for the next part of their schedule. On a whim, Stiles pulled out a blue pen.

  
"Give me your hand," Stiles instructed Isaac, ignoring the other teen's confused face. Isaac hesitantly reached over and Stiles quickly scribbled down his name and number on his hand.

  
"Now you can text me and tell me if you actually like the CD," Stiles said, throwing the pen back into his bag and stepping out of the bench. He zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders with going-on-12 years of easing experience. Stiles sent Isaac and Erica a short salute before either of them could say a single thing, exiting out of the cafeteria.

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Stiles would be lying if he said that when he received a text late that night reading "this is the best CD I've ever heard", he didn't physical throw a victorious fist in the air like he was John Bender at the end of the Breakfast Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah so I had a lot of fun writing as Stiles, ngl. I hope you guys like the whole perspective change-thing and any comments/critiques are greatly appreciated! The chapters will now be titled as Stiles or Isaac so you know who's perspective it is in. :)
> 
> I would like to leave a lovely thanks to my Beta-reader http://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLevi ! He is one of my greatest friends and a fellow Stisaac shipper. :D


	5. Isaac

There were some lessons Isaac never learned. One of those lessons happened to be not buying the generic dishwasher detergent. It worked exactly the same as the name-brand but that wasn't the point. The point was that Isaac never could listen. The point was that Isaac could never get anything right. The point was that Isaac should just stop breathing because every inhale he took was air that someone who actually was worth something could use. The point was reiterated in Isaac's mind at 2 A.M. when his dad physically yanked him out of bed. The point was etched into scars that would never heal by every other point his dad brought into the light for the world to see.

  
The point was that Isaac was standing in the bathroom, staring down at his unclothed hip. His dad had finally gone to bed, deciding that enough damage had been done for one morning. Blood dripped shallowly from his hip like wax on a candle, oozing and burning without giving any release. Isaac counted his blessings that the beer bottle was only aimed at his side and not at his head.

  
Isaac almost laughed because his version of a blessing was being thankful that he was only suffocated by a python instead of being fed to the lions.

  
_'Stop shaking,'_ Isaac thought to himself, reaching down slowly towards his right hip with a pair of tweezers. He bit his tongue as he slowly pulled out a shard of glass from his skin, throwing it in the waste basket. It fucking hurt but Isaac stayed silent because he was too afraid to scream.

  
Isaac took in a deep, shaking breath, trying to put himself back together (but he never could because everything about him was a puzzle that was missing some pieces). It wasn't the first time he had done this yet he never seemed to get use to the pain. He ran his hands up and down his sweat pants, trying to get himself to continue.

  
Taking in another breath, inhaling so deep he could feel it in every inch of his body, he got to work. It was slow and agonizing and every time he looked up at the mirror, he was more disgusted with what he saw. He tried to find peace in the battle, counting each shard as it left his hip ( _8_ ). Graciously his dad didn't leave any wounds that truly required a visit to the emergency room (at least not this time).

  
Isaac dropped the tweezers, red dipped metal clanking against white porcelian. Isaac quickly turned on the hot water, burning the blood off of his skin until his hands were pink with rawness. He noted that his hands had shook themselves into a more functional numbness as he grabbed the green, floral hand towel off of the rack, tipping it into the water slightly. Then ever so fucking slowly, he began to wipe off his hip. He closed his eyes, trying to pretend it was someone else cleaning him up, someone that could fix everything, someone like his mother. The trick never worked as well as it used to; he was older, wounds cut deeper, and his mother was never coming back.

  
Isaac suddenly felt a humongous need to shrivel into a ball and die.

  
Isaac tossed the towel in the sink and turned off the faucet with another breath, breathing back out everything he felt. He reached up into the cupboard, pulling out a large gauze pad and a shitty excuse for medical tape. It took him 3 times to get the gauze to lay the right way on his hip to encompass the cuts, cursing everytime he fucked up with the tape. When he was done, he threw the medical supplies carelessly back into the cupboard.

  
Isaac pulled back on his white T-shirt, ignoring the dried blood staining the bottom right side, the stains stretching onto his grey sweatpants. It didn't matter that much seeing that no one ever saw them anyways. His fingers slid against the outlet, shutting off the lights. He stepped out of his bathroom, shutting the door, then returned to his bed.

  
Isaac let out a sigh as he grabbed his laptop, powering it up. He felt physically exhausted, yet he knew that he wasn't getting any sleep while his mind felt like a loaded rifle, ready to go off. A slight groan escaped Isaac's mouth when he noted the time: 3:45 A.M. He had 3 more hours until he usually woke up. He opened Windows Media Player, scrolling through his albums for something, anything, to kill the time. He paused when he saw the newest addition on his player: the CD Stiles made him.

  
He would be lying if he didn't say that the CD was the coolest gift he had gotten in an extremely long time. Granted, it was kind of odd and very fucking unexpected, but it was also really awesome. Isaac didn't get presents that often, especially not ones that held so much personal value from the giver. The CD gave Isaac an undescribable sense of serenity that he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

  
Suddenly Isaac was getting off the bed, wincing slightly at the sudden sharp movement to his hip. He walked over to his desk, pulling the top disk-case set from a stack of blank CDs. He snatched up his headphones from his MP3 player before returning to his laptop. Isaac popped the CD into the drive of his laptop before returning to his library.

  
After hours of picking and unpicking and listening and rearranging and repeating this process over and over again, Isaac had finally landed on the perfect track list:  
-Fools Gold by Fitz and The Tantrums  
-Little Black Submarines by The Black Keys  
-Icarus by Bastille  
-Black Balloon by The Goo Goo Dolls  
-Settle Down by The 1975  
-Do I Wanna Know? by The Arctic Monkeys  
-Requiem For Blue Jeans by Bastille  
-Hell Of A Season by The Black Keys  
-Let It Go by The Neighborhood  
-No Angels by Bastille Ft. Ella  
-Tainted Love by The Living End  
-She Way Out by The 1975  
-You Only Live Once by The Strokes  
-Don't Wake Me Up by Lianne La Havas  
-Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts by The Arctic Monkeys  
-Tin Lover by The Paper Kites  
-Asleep by The Smiths

  
Isaac cursed the fact that he couldn't put more music on it, but forced himself to keep the same number of tracks that Stiles had given him. He didn't want to come off as awkward or something (though Stiles calling him awkward would be the best example of "the pot calling the kettle black" in all mankind). Isaac picked up the cover while the CD began to burn. He twirled a blue pen in his left hand thoughtfully, before writing out "Isaac's Rad CD for Stiles" in large block letters.

  
He slipped the cover carefully into the front of the CD case, then proceeded to write down the track list on the back. He counted every track as he went ( _17_ ), blowing gently on the ink after he finished, drying it quicker. He ejected the disk from his laptop, gently placing it in the case. He was almost excited to give it to Stiles, praying that he liked.

  
_'Fuck, I hope Stiles likes it.'_

  
Isaac blinked when he heard the soft vibration of his phone. He grabbed it off the bed-side table, careful not to put pressure on his right hip. A large 'Stiles Stilinski' lit up his screen.

  
Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

  
Stiles Stilinski-7:02 A.M.  
Sorry for not replying last night, Dude. I fell asleep. ngl, I'm really happy that you liked the CD! :D

  
Isaac Lahey-7:03 A.M.  
Don't worry about it. Yeah your cd is the best cd ive heard in a long time. I have something for you btw.

  
It took Isaac a moment to realize his phone was now recieving a call, not just another text.

  
"Hello?," Isaac said, his voice groggy with lack of sleep. He coughed a few times to clear his throat as the caller began to speak.

  
"You bought me something?! Dude, you totally didn't have to," Stiles said in a voice way too loud and way too exuberant for 7 in the morning.

  
"Uh, no, I made you something," Isaac responded, suddenly feeling really lame. Maybe making a mixed CD to give back to Stiles was an extremely stupid thing to do ( _'Fuck'_ ). Stiles, however, didn't seem to be anything other than excited.

  
"Really? That's super cool," Stiles responded before suddenly adding on an "Are you ready for school?" Isaac looked down at himself. He showered last night so besides brushing his teeth and throwing on more "redeemable clothes", he was pretty set.

  
"Almost," Isaac said. "Why?"

  
"Alright, I'm going to be at your house in 15 minutes," Stiles stated, pausing for a moment. "If that's alright with you." Isaac felt like this proposition was extremely 'alright'.

  
"Sounds cool," Isaac said, shutting down his laptop before carefully getting out of bed.

  
"Awesome! See you soon," Stiles replied, hanging up. Isaac tossed his phone on his bed, carefully stretching to help wake up his body (it didn't help). He proceeded to get dressed,throwing on a white sweater and a looser pair of jeans that didn't agitate his hip. He threw on a pair of socks and his beat up, blue converse that had seen much better days before making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and force his hair into a more organized tousle. He tried his best to ignore the everlasting bags under his eyes, deciding a long time ago that they weren't worth the worry.

  
Isaac made his way down the stairs with his shoulder bag already on, crossing into the kitchen. He placed the mixed CD on the counter, looking at the broken glass littered on the tile. With a sigh, Isaac ran a peice of paper towel under the faucet, giving it a little squeeze once he deemed it wet enough. He gently patted the paper towel over the broken glass, the shards sticking to the towel with overly-practiced ease. Camden was the one that taught Isaac this trick when he was seven and they broke one of their mother's vases reenacting a wrestling move they had seen on T.V. He could remember that day vividly, their childish amount of fear, their mother's threat to never give them dessert again if they broke anything else while rough housing, the warm feeling Isaac got when Camden laughed and ruffled his hair after figuring out that they got off with just a warning.

  
Isaac tossed the glass-covered towel in the trash, throwing away any thoughts of Camden with it. He blinked, listening to his phone vibrate across the counter. He didn't bother replying to Stiles' "I'm here :)", just sweeping up the CD and walking out of the house, locking the door behind him. He could clearly see Stiles baby blue jeep, complete with Stiles animatedly drumming to some rhythm on his steering wheel in the driver's side.

  
"Hey!," Stiles greeted as Isaac slid into the passenger seat of the car, sounding as if it wasn't 7:26 in the morning. Isaac nodded slightly in greeting, belting himself in.

  
"Man, you look beat," Stiles continued, causing Isaac to tense slightly at his choice of words. "Did you sleep at all?" Isaac relaxed slightly, leaning back into the car seat.

  
"It was a long night. I didn't really get much sleep," Isaac said, shrugging casually like this was something that happened all the time (it was). Stiles nodded in somewhat understanding, driving off.

  
"Well you look like you could use some coffee. This calls for Starbucks," Stiles said, sounding more like a declaration than a suggestion. It wasn't like they needed to be in a hurry. School didn't start for another hour.

  
"Sounds fine," Isaac said before handing the CD over to Stiles. Isaac didn't know it was possible for eyes to get that wide (and be that amber) but Stiles was pretty much making a habit out of surprising him.

  
"You made me a mix CD?," Stiles questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. Isaac shrugged, trying not to feel horribly vulnerable.

  
"Yeah. I don't know, the CD you made me was pretty fucking spectacular so I thought I would return the favor,"Isaac said, forcing himself to look back up at Stiles. Stiles' pupils were blown in pure, unadulterated admiration, causing Isaac's breath to catch in his throat for just a moment.

  
Stiles didn't even take time to look at the track list, clumsily popping the CD out of the case and putting it into the car's disc drive. Without a word, Stiles turned the car stereo up, letting Fitz and The Tantrums pervade the car. Isaac pulled his eyes from the other teenager, staring forward at the brightening skyline that covered everything from the pavement to the trees lining the sides of the road. He absentmindedly tried to count the trees as they passed, quickly giving up with the realization that he couldn't keep up with the overly saturated forest ( _is it really necessary to have all these big ass trees?_ ). Sighing inwardly, Isaac settled on trying to focus on the music swaying out of the Jeep's speakers.

  
3 songs later, Stiles was pulling into the drive thru of Starbucks, turning down the music and stopping in front of the menu.

  
"What do you want?," Stiles asked, speaking for the first time since they started driving. While Stiles actively manuevered his hips around to get his wallet out of his pocket, Isaac couldn't help but wonder if Stiles was always that quiet in the mornings. Or maybe he just didn't want to talk over the CD; maybe he was just listening to every beat, every note, to figure out why Isaac chose this one and that one and all of the ones in between, just like Isaac had done with the CD Stiles had given him.

  
Isaac wasn't sure why, but imagining Stiles trying to figure him out made his heart skip a beat.

  
"A Chocolate Chai Tea latte," Isaac answered simply, trying to remember if he had grabbed his wallet today or not.

  
"Yeah, I'd like one grande Chocolate Chai Tea latte and one grande Pumpkin Latte," Stiles ordered, leaning out the window slightly more than necessary. After the employee rattled off the price, Stiles plopped back onto his seat, slowly pulling up to the window.

  
"How much is it?," Isaac asked, digging for his wallet in his bag. Stiles shook his head.

  
"Don't worry, dude. It's on me," Stiles said nonchalantly. Isaac blinked, not really sure what to say about that. He wasn't really used to people buying things for him.

  
"Uh..alright, thanks," Isaac muttered as Stiles handed him his chai latte, placing his own latte in a cup holder and paying for the order. Isaac took a careful sip of his drink while Stiles pulled out of the drive-thru, not complaining when the hot liquid burned the inside of his mouth. It hurt, but that didn't stop him from taking another sip. Starbucks' fall flavors was God's apology for such a shitty year and totally worth the pain.

  
Stiles turned the stereo back up and they fell into the same music-filled silence. Isaac stared out the window, absentmindedly counting each sip he took from his drink until they pulled into the school parking lot ( _9_ ).

  
Isaac finished off his latte in one gulp before following Stiles example and getting out of the jeep. One enthusiastic Stilinski goodbye later, Isaac headed for his first period.

  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

  
The day had not been going as Isaac had planned. Sure, his hip made it impossible to get comfortable anywhere, and sure, no matter how high he counted, he couldn't seem to force himself to stop jittering enough to eat lunch or stay awake in most of his classes, and sure, he had praised Erica when she had given him some Ibuprofen ( _2_ ) to help relieve the pain, and all of that wasn't really surprising. What had surprised him was Stiles, who had taken him slightly off guard with a text message during Chemistry.

  
Stiles Stilinski-11:05 A.M.  
Hey man, are you doing anything tonight?

  
Isaac blinked, looking 3 rows up and 1 to the right to see his ride from the morning fidgeting with his phone under his lab table. Isaac could nearly smell Stiles' anxiety of getting caught from under the calmer-than-normal facade he was putting on. Slowly, blue eyes moved back down to his own phone.

  
Isaac Lahey-11:06 A.M.  
No why?

  
Stiles Stilinski-11:06 A.M.  
Do you wanna go to Scott's place?

  
Isaac raised an eyebrow. Yeah, of course he knew who Scott was; Scott was one of the lacrosse captains and had been in his classes since elementary school. Still, the only time he had really talked to Scott was last year when they had been partners for an English project. Isaac had taken a liking of a sort to Scott's overall puppy-like personality and put him on the list of the people he gave somewhat of a shit about, but that was about it. Other than an occassional wave or small talk session in the hallway, they didn't really interact.

  
Isaac Lahey-11:09 A.M.  
Whats the occasion?

  
Stiles Stilinski-11:10 A.M.  
Well, tonight was supposed to be a bro night with Scott but he decided to invite Allison to totally crash the party, wich is extremely uncool jsyk. So I thought I would ask if you wanted to come along.

  
Isaac Lahey-11:11 A.M.  
So I'm like your date??

  
Stiles Stilinski-11:12 A.M.  
No I know the Stilinski charm is irresitable, but today is just not the day for our romance to blossom. I hope you can forgive me.

  
Isaac Lahey-11:13 A.M.  
I'm sure my poor maiden heart will heal from this devistation soon enough.

  
Isaac Lahey-11:13 A.M.  
So I'm basically third wheeling with you?

  
Stiles Stilinski-11:14 A.M.  
Yeah! I mean, thats what we practically did the other night with Erica & Boyd so I figured you were pretty qualified to third wheel with me. :p

  
Isaac Lahey-11:15 A.M.  
I'm flattered that you have noticed my talents at being a third wheel. I've been mastering this technique for years.

  
Stiles Stilinski-11:15 A.M.  
I feel you, bro. So, meet me at the jeep after school? :D

  
Isaac Lahey-11:17 A.M.  
Yeah, see you then

  
That was the exact reason he was now laying on Scott's bed, sandwiched between Stiles and the entity that was ScottandAllison. After hours of Stiles evenly fighting Scott for dominance via Call Of Duty (until Isaac joined in and teamed up with Stiles to kick some McCall butt) and two completely devoured pizzas, Allison suggested that they watch a movie. She hadn't done much participating in the 1st person shooter version of kicking major ass, but she knew Scott needed some guy time. Plus, it was extremely entertaining the types of insults the three of them came up with ("Cow fingering dick jiggler" was her favorite by far). Nonetheless, she could only watch so much COD before figuring it was time to change things up.

  
That was why Isaac was now stuck laying on Scott's queen-sized bed with three other teens in the dark, Love and Other Drugs playing on the television. Isaac was trying to make as little contact with anyone as possible, mainly ScottandAllison who he was 100 percent sure were making out.

  
In his futile efforts to maintain as far from the couple as possible, Isaac's left side had ended up practically squished against Stiles. He could feel his warm breath on his skin, the smell of Old Spice and something much sweeter radiating off of the shorter teen. In all honesty, it was pretty awkward, but not nearly as uncomfortable as he felt it should be.

  
Sometime during Jake Gyllenhal and Anne Hathaway getting it on, Isaac felt a weight on his chest. Literally. He glanced down to see a plaid-covered arm barely missing his hip, connected to a slow-breathing body. Stiles had completely passed out and was now attempting to cuddle with Isaac.

  
Isaac leaves the sudden heart flutter he feels completely to surprise and lack of sleep.

  
Isaac wasn't completely sure what to do as Stiles notably nuzzled more into his shoulder. It wasn't that Isaac particularly minded, he just hadn't really cuddled anyone in an extremely long time. He hadn't cuddled with anyone since his mom died. Still, there was something about cuddling that Isaac found extremely comforting.

  
He let out a yawn, suddenly feeling his sleepless night in full force. Stiles tightened his grip ever-so-slightly on Isaac's torso, muttering something in his sleep about Taco Bell being delicious. In the substantial haze that was sitting on his mind, Isaac couldn't help but agree. Afterall, he loved Mexican food.

  
The heaviness of Isaac's eyelids won over his willpower and before he knew it, he was burrying his face into the growingly-familiar brown hair out of instinct. Stiles easily adjusted himself to make up for the sudden shift and Isaac couldn't help but note how well their bodies seemed to fit together, like they did this all the time. Isaac felt unusually relaxed before sleep decided to take him, leaving only the sounds of Jake Gyllenhal, Anne Hathaway, and ScottandAllison's whispered kissing to fill the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I'M SO TERRIBLY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. The first year of college and the lack of motivation has royally been kicking my ass. D= But do not fret! I've gotten a sudden burst of inspiration and hopefully chapters will come out more frequently. Also, happy Stisaac week everyone! *throws confetti*
> 
>  
> 
> As always, any comments/critiques are more than appreciated. :D


	6. Isaac

The sun faded into the room as slowly as leaves melting from the shades of spring into the hues of autumn. Isaac shifted slightly, opening his eyes when he felt a weight connected to his body. That weight just happened to be none other than Stiles Stilinski.

  
Stiles shifted slightly to accommodate for Isaac's movements, snuggling into the taller teen's sweater. Isaac felt something flutter momentarily in his chest, but he quickly passed that off on the fact that he had just woken up. He took a deep breath, not wanting to move in fear of disturbing the relaxed state of the room. Granted, they were smushed together a bit more than what was needed or ordinary for acquaintances, but Isaac couldn't disband the cloud of comfort that had filled his body. For some reason, Isaac was pretty sure that being wrapped around Stiles was the most comfortable he had been in a long time.

  
With some hesitation, Isaac awkwardly angled his phone out of his pocket, rotating it in his hand. He clicked the home button, checking the time. In large, white letters, the phone read '12:07 P.M.'

  
Isaac was pretty sure he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

  
The curly haired boy shot straight up, agitating his hip and successfully knocking Stiles off of the bed and onto the ground. The Stilinski boy let out a loud yelp when he hit the ground, scrambling to stand as fast as he could in somewhat of a panic. Scott, who at some point had decided to crash on the floor after taking Allison home the night before, started to rise, obviously confused at the sudden panic in the room, groggily muttering out a "where's the fire?"

  
Isaac wasn't paying attention to the waking teenagers around him, however. He wasn't supposed to sleepover at Scott's house; he knew how his dad was about things like this (and everything Isaac ever did). It was a complete accident, he didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep, but he knew his dad wasn't going to take that answer lightly.

  
'I'm so fucked.'

  
"I need to go home," Isaac said, his voice cracking just a bit as an effect of just waking up. He didn't really care though, much more focused on the panic rising in his throat. He quickly scrambled off the bed, grabbing his shoes.

  
"Uh, okay. What's the rush?," Stiles asked, half alerted of Isaac's sudden panicked expression. He ran a sleepy hand through his obvious bed head, trying to wake up a bit more.

  
"I shouldn't have stayed here; my dad's going to kill me," Isaac answered, shoving on his old, blue converse as quickly as he could, tying them just a bit to tightly and a bit to aggressively.

  
"Oh shit. Hold on, I can give you a ride home," Stiles said, grabbing his wallet and keys off of Scott's dresser, stumbling slightly on his way there. He wanted to take his time to wake up a bit more but there was something about the terrified look in Isaac's blue eyes that made him work a bit faster as he tied on his black, low top converse.

  
Isaac stood by the door, tapping his foot more out of nerves than impatience, as he waited for Stiles to gather all of his stuff. He was grateful that at least he didn't have to physically run home. It was always good to try and look at the good instead of the bad (not that Isaac ever followed that rule). He grabbed his backpack, slinging it carelessly over his shoulder.

  
"Okay, ready," Stiles said, walking over to Isaac, a look of slight concern in his eyes. Isaac turned away from Stiles, opening the door. He muttered a bye to a very out of it Scott before walking out. Stiles sent Scott a casual salute before following after Isaac. They quickly made their way out of the house and into the Jeep. Stiles started the car, turning out of the McCall driveway and onto the road with much practiced ease.

  
The car filled with an empty silence, an awkward tension building. Isaac stared at the air vents connected to the dashboard, counting every one of the vent blinds (20). When he was done counting that, Isaac searched for something else to count, finding it much more difficult than it should be. Isaac felt his racing heartbeat thicken the tension in the car with every pump, the air around him feeling much thicker than before, the walls of the car seeming a little closer than they had a moment ago.

  
"So," Stiles said suddenly, startling Isaac just a bit as his voice cut through the suspense. "Is your dad really strict or something?"

  
"Yeah, you could say that," Isaac answered.

  
"That sucks, man. I'm glad my dad isn't all that strict. As long as I don't meddle into police business, I'm usually pretty kosher. Not that that ever really stops me," Stiles joked, recieving a slightly forced half smile from Isaac.

  
"So, do you guys get along? You and your dad?," Stiles asked. Isaac honestly could have laughed.

  
"No, not at all."

  
"Ah. Do you guys fight a lot?" Isaac scoffed.

  
"Yeah, you could say that." He wasn't entirely sure why he was even bothering answering Stiles. He didn't really like talking about his family. Still, speaking to Stiles kind of seemed to make the air a little easier to take in.

  
"What about your mom? Does she keep the peace?," Stiles asked curiously.

  
"No, not really," Isaac said, shifting with slight discomfort. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

  
"Do you not get along with your mom, then?"

  
"My mom's dead." Isaac wasn't sure why he chose the least tactful way to answer this, but Stiles wasn't very tactful himself.

  
"Oh," Stiles said, a look Isaac had never seen before taking over his face. Isaac couldn't read what it meant, but he knew he never wanted Stiles to look like that ever again.  
"Yeah," Isaac said, not quite sure how to respond.

  
"Shit, I'm really sorry, Isaac."

  
"It's okay. It was a long time ago. There isn't a point of being sad now," Isaac answered, explaining more to himself than to Stiles.

  
"But that doesn't mean you don't feel sad. That doesn't mean you don't still think about it,"Stiles said, something a little sharp in his reply.

"You sound like a counselor," Isaac replied with a little bit of snark.

"No, I'm just trying to tell you that it's okay to still be upset about your mom,"Stiles said, a sternness in his voice. Isaac rolled his eyes.

"Look, I don't need or want your sympathy, Stiles," Isaac spoke with some condescension.

"Uh actually," Stiles began, mimicking Isaac's tone, only a lot more defensive,"the correct term would be empathy, Isaac, because my mom's dead too."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well fuck," Isaac said, feeling like the lowest piece of shit in the pile. He never meant to offend him. He bit his lip, searching for something, anything, to say.

"I guess we have more in common than our music taste," Isaac half joked. He felt a slight bit victorious when that earned a soft laugh from the other teenager.

"Yeah, I guess we are more alike than I thought," Stiles said softly, the tension backing off just a bit. They spent the rest of the journey in silence, neither of them sure exactly what to say and neither making the decision to turn on music. When they spotted Mr. Lahey's car in his driveway, Isaac took a deep breath, all of his anxiety hitting him full force. He slowly removed his seatbelt, willing his hands to not shake. 

"Well I guess I'll talk to you later?," Stiles said, more of a question than a statement. Isaac nodded, grabbing his bag by the handle and sliding out of the Jeep. 

"Yeah. Thanks for the ride, Stiles," Isaac said before shutting the door. With a deep breath and the sound of Stiles leaving in the background, Isaac entered his house.  
Isaac stepped through the front door cautiously, closing and locking the door the softest he could. There was nothing like the feeling of impending doom that made Isaac want to be as quiet as possible. It just felt like the right thing to do. Isaac took a deep breath, knowing if he got to the stairs he would probably be fine (well, at least for the time being). Isaac walked past the kitchen entrance as quietly and quickly as he possibly could.

"Oh, your home," a voice called from the kitchen. Isaac closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gain composure. 'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck', ran through his mind as he walked back to the entrance, stepping into the kitchen. Isaac looked at his father, trying to figure out what mood he was in. His father was looking at him with a soft smile that made Isaac's instincts to run light on fire.

"Where have you been?," Isaac's dad questioned, a calmness in his voice. 

"Just at a friend's house," Isaac replied, his left hand clenching a bit tighter around the backpack handle. Mr. Lahey let out a soft chuckle.

"Come on boy, don't lie to me. Where were you?" Isaac blinked.

"I told you I was with my friends,"Isaac repeated, more slowly this time. 

"Now Isaac," Mr. Lahey started, calmly standing up from the table. "We both know that you don't have any friends. Stop lying to me."

"But I'm not lying to you!," Isaac said, exhasparation in his voice. He gulped slightly as his father placidly walked over to him. 

"Do I need to force you to tell me the truth?," Mr. Lahey asked, his tone of voice gaining edge. 

"No Dad, I really was with-" Isaac was cut off by Mr.Lahey yanking his son down by the collar, pulling him so they were in each other's faces. Isaac's backpack fell to the ground, completely forgotten. 

"Stop lying to me you piece of shit!," Mr. Lahey yelled, causing Isaac to flinch dramatically, suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic. He could feel his whole body start to shake.

Isaac tried to say something, anything, but Mr. Lahey moved first. Being hit by your dad isn't something you ever get used to. Isaac hit the ground, knowing he got hit in the face but he really felt it in the nauseating way his guts seemed to twist with a rush of emotions. His mind started going everywhere, and nowhere; his brain not being able to keep up enough to count how many times he was kicked. 

Suddenly Isaac was being dragged towards the basement. He could feel his legs kicking in protest down every step, his voice screaming out pleas and apologies. It was the same that happened every time, kind of like muscle memory. 

Isaac hit cold, familiar metal, letting out one last cry of desperation that went unheard. There was one last slam above him, then suddenly everything was dark and silent.

It wasn't as if this was the first time this happened; Isaac felt like he spent more time in the freezer than in his bed most of the time. Still, that didn't seem to comfort him. He tried counting anything he could, from the eight familiar corners, to the six barriers that felt like they were closing in faster than Isaac could scream for help.

Isaac banged against the walls, hands running over old and new blood-stained marks and dents in the metal, feeling like he was extremely outnumbered. He tried to push the borders as far as way as he could, feeling like his six foot body was shoved in a two foot box. His heart was hammering in his chest as everything around him seemed to grow colder and colder and colder. He tried desperately to count himself breathing but it was hard when you weren't even sure you were really breathing.

It was moments like this that Isaac wondered if he had already died because he had to be living in Hell.

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun had already set by the time Isaac got out of the freezer. His dad had unleashed Isaac from his cell, muttering something about having an ungrateful kid, before shuffling back up the stairs. He walked straight out the front door and into his car, never once looking back. 

Isaac groaned slightly as he planted himself on the ground outside of the freezer. His whole body felt stiff from being so cramped in such a small space. Taking a deep breath to try and shake off the pulsating numbness in his body, Isaac dragged himself up the stairs and out of the basement. 

When he entered the kitchen, he glanced up at the clock, noting that it was fifteen minutes passed six o'clock. He let out a groan, remembering he had to go to work. Since the beginning of the summer, Isaac had been working as a gravedigger at the local cemetary. Granted, it wasn't the most cheerful of jobs, but it gave him money and more importantly, a reason not to be home.  
Isaac walked over to his abandoned backpack, ruffling through it and pulling out his cell phone. He didn't bother checking it, opting just to slide it into his jean pocket that wasn't preoccupied with his wallet. He grabbed his keys off the ground where they had fallen. With a soft groan, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, making his way upstairs to his room. He quickly dropped his backpack onto the ground, getting ready for work.

He threw on an old t-shirt and a black hoodie, deeming his pants clean enough for working at a graveyard. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple times, getting the curls to lay a little bit better. He grabbed his old MP3 player, double checking that he had everything he needed, working through the fading numbness like clockwork. 

Once everything was in order, he went downstairs, not looking back as he left the house, locking the door behind him. He deemed that riding his bike would be more pain than it was worth, so he stuffed his headphones in his ears and began walking. He set his music device on his newest playlist (wich was really just the CD that Stiles had made for him). It was pretty much all he had been listening to since he got it. There was just something about the CD, something personal in it, that Isaac just couldn't get enough of. It was like he was listening to a piece of Stiles and as weird as it may seem, it was oddly comforting and gave him this undescribably warm feeling inside. Stiles seemed to have that effect on him.

Isaac blinked when he was pulled out of his Stilinski-related thoughts by a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his phone, seeing that he had a text from Erica. 

\--Erica Reyes- 6:27 P.M.

Hey how did hangin with the mccall pack go yesterday????? Was it as weird as you thought it would be?

\--Isaac Lahey- 6:28 P.M.

Yeah it was a little weird but not as bad as expected. We ate pizza and played video games. I fell asleep there.  
Isaac sent off the message to Erica before going to check his inbox. He muttered a quiet "Holy Shit" under his breath when he saw that he had thirteen messages, all from Stiles. With a strike of curiousity, Isaac began reading the texts. 

\--Stiles Stilinski- 1:58 P.M.

Hey, sorry about the conversation this morning (this afternoon?? idk It was around noon). It was pretty awkward. Still, I'm glad you came to hang out with us. Your COD game is strong and we definitely have to kick Scott's ass together again. =D

\--Stiles Stilinski- 1:55 P.M.

Oh yeah and how did things go with your dad? You grounded for life or something?

\--Stiles Stilinski- 2:30 P.M.

Are you missing your chemistry text book? Scott found an extra one in his room and he can't figure out who it belongs to.

\--Stiles Stilinski- 2:38 P.M.

Scott finally thought to check the inside cover and it is defintely your textbook. I can drop it off at your house if you want???

\--Stiles Stilinski- 3:06 P.M.

Or since you are probably busy, I can just give it to you on Monday.

\--Stiles Stilinski- 3:42 P.M.

You Only Live Once by The Strokes is definetely my favorite song off of the CD you made me btw. 

\--Stiles Stilinski- 4:30 P.M.

Hey, Scott said that you are more than welcome to crash guys night next Friday too. I think he is only saying this so that I can't complain about him inviting Allison, but whatever. Third wheeling is better with you. :p

\--Stiles Stilinski- 4:46 P.M. 

WHY AREN'T YOU REPLYING TO MY TEXTS???LAME.

\--Stiles Stilinski- 4:55 P.M.

I take back what I said before. My favorite song off of the CD is Settle Down by The 1975, hands down.

\--Stiles Stilinski- 5:08 P.M.

Okay no, my favorite song is Let It Go by The Neighborhood

\--Stiles Stilinski- 5:12 P.M.

Okay maybe my favorite song is all of them. This is the best CD i've listened to in a long time. A+++++

\--Stiles Stilinski- 5:30 P.M.

Alright I'm kind of worried about you, dude. Are you alright?

\--Stiles Stilinski- 5:38 P.M.

Unless you are ignoring me and I'm just spamming your phone for no reason. If so then I guess I'll see you Monday??? Have a good weekend, Isaac.  
Isaac blinked, finishing the text messages. 'Jesus, you would think I dissappeared for a year or something', Isaac thought, though that didn't stop the slight smirk that was pulling on his lips. He quickly began to type a reply.

\--Isaac Lahey- 6:36 P.M.

Hey sorry I fell asleep. I didn't know you would miss me so much, not that I can blame you. ;)  
Okay, so Isaac wasn't really sleeping, but minor lies never really hurt anyone.

\--Stiles Stilinski- 6:37 P.M.

Holy fuck dude you literally slept the day away, not that I can really judge you. I'm guessing since you still have your phone, you haven't been grounded from any contact with the outside world. 

\--Stiles Stilinski- 6:37 P.M. 

Also I never said I missed you, asshole. Don't be so cocky. :p

\--Isaac Lahey- 6:39 P.M.

My dad pretty much reacted like he usually does. And I know you missed me and my flawless taste in music. You don't have to be embarassed. 

\--Stiles Stilinski- 6:40 P.M.

Whatever, Lahey. It's actually the other way around. I know you can't resist the Stilinski charm. You can't get my hot body out of your mind. *eyebrow wiggle*  
Isaac audibly snorted at that. Isaac was not thinking about Stiles' "hot" body, but he had been thinking about Stiles alot more than Isaac thought of as 'usual'. Something about Stiles seemed to make things feel lighter and brighter than before. Even the night around him felt less dense with every recieved message.

\--Isaac Lahey- 6:42 P.M.

Yeah, you wish. Whatever helps you through the day, Stilinski. :p

Isaac could feel the smile growing on his face, anticipating Stiles' reply. So maybe there was some kind of charm to Stiles, and maybe that charm was really starting to work on Isaac the more he was exposed to it, and maybe, just maybe, the day suddenly didn't seem so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it is here! Guys, I'm so bad at keeping a writing schedule and I'm sorry. Still, it's Teen Wolf day so I felt like it was the perfect time for another chapter upload. =) I was trying something new with the text messages, so tell me if you like it!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are super appreciated!


	7. Isaac

"So is there a reason why you are dressing up today?," Isaac asked as he watched Erica pick mascara out of her makeup bag.

  
"Contrary to popular belief, women don't need a reason to dress up," she stated in that borderline-condescending tone that was so very 'Erica' and Isaac was so very familiar with. "Stop moving so much."

  
Isaac let out a slight sigh, trying to hold the phone as still as possible so Erica could use it as a make-shift mirror. Isaac wasn't quite sure why Erica decided to do her makeup in the camera function of her phone in a practically empty classroom before first period instead of in an actual mirror in the girl's bathroom, but he felt like it was somehow his fault so he opted not to ask.

  
"So, how was your weekend?," Erica asked with a hint of a careful tone in her voice. As he watched her finish up her right eye and move to the left, Isaac was reminded of the bruise on his right cheekbone that was left over from the conversation with his dad on Saturday. Isaac swallowed self-consciously, avoiding answering the underlying question.

  
"It was alright. It was pretty good for the most part," Isaac answered casually. Honestly, he wasn't lying. Most of his weekend hadn't been as horrible as usual. Erica nodded slightly, switching out her mascara bottle for a blush compact.

  
"Really? Well that's unusual. Did it have to do with that weird sleepover at Scott's?," Erica wondered. Isaac rolled his eyes.

  
"It wasn't really that weird," he replied dryly before pausing for a moment and adding,"Well, for the most part it wasn't weird."

  
"For the most part?," Erica inquired, raising an eyebrow.

  
"Well, me and Stiles kind of cuddled that night so I guess that is a bit weird." Erica stopped putting on her makeup for a moment to look at Isaac.

  
"You two cuddled?"

  
"Yeah? I mean it wasn't like we did it on purpose," Isaac muttered, not making eye contact with a very amused looking Erica.

  
"Oh, well that's nice," she said simply, going back to looking at her reflection. "So what else did you do this weekend that has made you so giddy?" Isaac rolled his eyes.

  
"Not anything, really."

  
"Did you talk to Stiles?," she asked straight-forwardly, applying the pink powder on her cheeks evenly.

  
"Yeah, why?," Isaac asked, feeling slightly suspicious.

  
"Well it's only right to talk to a person after getting so intimate with them," she answered nonchalantly, recieving one of the world's biggest eye rolls.

  
"Uh, all we did was accidently cuddle. It's not like we fucked, Erica," Isaac replied bluntly.

  
"Not yet," Erica retorted in a sing-song voice, clearly enjoying this. If Isaac had been drinking something, he was about one hundred percent sure he would be choking.

  
"What? Me and Stiles aren't like that! We're just friends," Isaac stated.

  
"Boyd and I used to be 'just friends' but look at us now," Erica pointed out with a smirk.

  
"Just shut up and do your stupid make up," Isaac muttered, rolling his eyes when Erica let out a laugh.

  
"Sure, whatever you say, lover boy," Erica said with a grin.

  
The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, Isaac holding up the "mirror" for Erica as she continued to transform. For some reason, Isaac didn't believe her when she said she was getting dressed up 'for no reason'; he knew there was something else, but she didn't seem to want to tell him, so he wasn't going to press on. After all, it's not like he never kept things from Erica.

  
Isaac watched as she meticulously put on her makeup like a modern day war paint, ready to battle every insecurity that came her way. Erica rubbed her lips together, making sure the red coloring was evenly placed. After she was somewhat satisfied, she looked up at Isaac.

  
"So do I look okay?," Erica asked with a slight bit of nerves in her usually dauntless tone.

  
"Why does it matter what I think? I thought you were only doing this for yourself?," Isaac questioned, raising an eyebrow. It was Erica's turn to roll her eyes.

  
"Shut up, Lahey. You know there is not a single person on this planet that doesn't want to prove something, so just answer the damn question." Isaac laughed.

  
"You look fine, really. All the guys will be falling all over your hot body all day," Isaac said, only half sarcastic. Erica smirked.

  
"Oh, like how you are falling all over Stiles' hot body?"

  
"I really hate you sometimes," Isaac said bluntly. He blinked after noticing that Erica hadn't replied yet and instead was just staring at him. Just as he was about to assure her that he didn't actually hate her, she asked the strangest question:

  
"Do you trust me?"

  
Isaac was taken offguard. Of course he trusted Erica, he trusted her more than he trusted himself somedays. He nodded hesitantly.

  
"Good, I want to try something. Stay still," Erica ordered without much force. She looked through her makeup kit, pulling out a bottle of concealer.

  
"We're about the same shade so this should work," Erica commented, mostly to herself.

  
"What will work? What are you doing?," Isaac said, not sure exactly where this was going.

  
"Just hold still," Erica restated, not answering his question. Carefully, she placed a dab of concealer on a makeup sponge. She placed the the sponge on Isaac's bruised cheek, causing him to flinch instinctually.

  
"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," Erica said softly and honestly, Isaac believed her. He relaxed a little bit, letting Erica touch him. Gently, she rubbed the concealer over his bruise until nothing was there.

  
"See? Now at least you look like you are okay," Erica said, holding up the phone mirror for Isaac to look in. She was right; it didn't look like there was ever a bruise there in the first place. Erica grinned.

  
"Now both of us look like we could run the world if we wanted to."

  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
There were a lot of constants in Isaac's life, like how the sky was blue, music is perfect, and the cafeteria food tasted like a fermented dick. He let out a soft, sad sigh as he determined which parts of his meal were the least lethal. Erica had taken a note from Boyd to just give up completely and opted to bring her own lunch.

  
"You look pathetic. Do you want half of my sandwich?," Erica asked. Isaac nodded, shoving his tray away from him and gratefully taking half of the PB&J from his peer.

  
"Is this seat taken?," came a voice that Isaac was beginning to get well acquainted with. Stiles took a seat next to the taller teen, swinging his backpack on the seat opposite of Isaac, his food tray settling on the table thankfully without issue.

  
"Hey, Erica," Stiles greeted, recieving a nod of an acknowledgement and a smile from the blonde.

  
"Did you need something?," Isaac asked the other male who was very animatedly shoving french fries in his mouth. Stiles shook his head quickly, swallowing down the potato sticks in a huge gulp before replying.

  
"Not really, I just wanted to eat lunch with you," he said nonchalantly. Isaac quickly shot a glare at Erica who was smirking wildly before shrugging.

  
"Okay, that's cool," Isaac replied, not really sure how to answer. He took a drink of his school-supplied orange juice just so he had something to do. He watched as Stiles stuffed the poor excuse for french fries into his mouth like he was about to hibernate for the winter.

  
"You gonna eat those?," Stiles asked suddenly, pointing to the neglected pile of fries on Isaac's tray. The taller boy shook his head, pushing the cafeteria tray over to Stiles. He shot him a grin before tossing a fry in his mouth. Isaac couldn't help but feel amused. He took note of the other teen's bright, hazel eyes, thinking absentmindedly how he would love to run his fingers through his hair, suddenly craving to know how it feels. His eyes lingered on Stiles' lips, imagining how ridiculously soft they must be despite their current assualt on every french fry he got his hands on.

  
_'Stiles really is pretty cute.'_

  
Isaac was snapped out of his thoughts by Erica obnoxiously clearing her throat. Isaac blinked, looking over at a ridiculously smug looking Erica and Boyd. Erica subtly motioned to her phone. Isaac picked up the clue, checking his phone.

  
\--Erica Reyes- 12:17 P.M.

  
You might want to quit staring, Lover Boy. I know he's cute, but at this rate youre going to start drooling.

  
Isaac shot her the most malicious glare he could muster, mouthing a very stern 'go fuck yourself', but Erica's grin only widened. Isaac muttered a "bitch" under his breath, his eyes glancing back over at the Stilinski.

  
Isaac would be lying if he said that Stiles hadn't been on his mind. Ever since the conversation with Erica this morning, all he could think about were those stupid, honey-brown eyes and those fucking moles that rested against his skin like paint drops on a canvas. After much contemplation (and a lot of unhidden staring in chemistry class), Isaac had come to the conclusion that Stiles was clear-as-day attractive.

  
It wasn't really a huge deal, necissarily; it was more weird than anything else. Isaac never really thought much about the possibility of being attracted to boys. After all, according to his previous track record of people he had liked, he was most definitely heterosexual. As Isaac watched Stiles laugh unabashedly at some comment Erica made,he came to the conclusion that he was probably not going to get over how fucking cute Stiles was anytime soon.

  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Isaac noted that the number of times he had ended up in Stiles' jeep was increasing very quickly. Once again he found himself sitting passenger side in Roscoe, his bike shoved into the backseat. Lacrosse practice had been cancelled and it took no time at all for Stiles to slide over to Isaac with an adventurous glint in his eyes. Now they were both strapped into the blue jeep, on there way to get ice cream.

  
To be honest, it really shouldn't surprise Isaac that they would be hanging out so soon. He was very aware of how extroverted Stiles was (really, who wasn't aware?), but he still didn't expect to be so quickly taken into Stiles' life. Granted, they had spent the weekend actively texting, only taking breaks for food and sleep. Isaac was now aware of a rainbow of things about Stiles, ranging from how he is more of a Marvel fan then a DC fan, to the story of how he got Mono from licking the bottom of Scott's shoe in seventh grade. Some things Isaac felt like he really could have lived a fine life without knowing, but everything just seemed to fit perfectly with the entity that was Stiles. The more he talked to him, the more Isaac couldn't figure out why he used to find him so irritating.

  
"Are you still listening to that CD?," Isaac asked as The Arctic Monkeys began to pulsate through the car.

  
"Hell yeah I'm still listening to it; It's got to be the best CD I've ever heard, hands down," Stiles said without question. Isaac bit his lip, not sure how to react to the warm feeling filling his body.  
"Well, thanks, I guess? Or you're welcome; I'm not sure wich fits better here," Isaac admitted, recieving a laugh from Stiles.

  
"I'm pretty sure both would work fine, dude," he said with a grin. They spent the rest of the drive in a comfortable lull of conversation, listening as the music filled the space between the two boys. Stiles pulled up to the small, ice cream shop, parking smoothly. He turned off the engine, both boys promptly exiting the car shortly after.

  
The shop wasn't anything special really, just your average, tiny ice cream parlor. It was mostly empty, minus some employees and an elderly couple in the corner. Isaac didn't bother looking at the ice cream selection, already knowing what he was going to get.

  
"I want a waffle cone with a scoop of Strawberry and a scoop of cookies and cream," Isaac told the ice cream scooper. She nodded slightly, getting his order together and handing it to him. Isaac mumbled a 'thanks' before scooting over towards the register. He looked back at Stiles who seemed to have put more thought into his order than he had.

  
"And you, sir?," the employee asked Stiles, her customer service skills clearly being applied.

  
"Yeah, I'd like a waffle cone with a scoop of Rocky Road and a scoop of Birthday Cake. Also, can I get whipcream, sprinkles, and gummy bears on top, please?," Stiles ordered with a grin. Isaac blinked, wondering how the hell Stiles' teeth hadn't rotted out of his skull, yet. Stiles recieved his cone, moving over to Isaac, staring at his ice cream with childish wonder.

  
"Will these two be together or seperate?," the employee asked, standing behind the register.

  
"Together," Isaac said automatically, pulling out his wallet to pay as the employee wrang them up.

  
"You don't have to do that," Stiles interrupted.

  
"It's fine. Think of it as thanks for the coffee the other day," Isaac said, shooting him a grin of reassurance. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice Stiles' eyes widen slightly.

  
Isaac payed for the ice cream, following Stiles' lead outside of the shop. It was a little cold, but nothing that the warmth from the Californian sun didn't beat. Isaac joined Stiles as he sat down on an old-looking wooden bench.

  
"Thanks for the ice cream, by the way," Stiles remarked, staring intently at the frozen treat like he was trying to decide what the best way of approaching it was.

  
"Don't mention it," isaac responded with a shrug, giving the strawberry section of his ice cream a steady lick, savorying the sweet taste on his tongue. As he took another lick of his ice cream, his blue eyes trailed over to Stiles.

  
Stiles was very clearly enjoying his ice cream, running long strokes of his tongue up and down and around the frozen cream, making sure to catch any stray drops before it created a sticky mess. Isaac couldn't help but stare, trying to count each move of his tongue but loosing track way too easily, feeling more intrigued by each lick. Isaac's eyes followed a drop that Stiles missed, the chocolate-flavored drop slowly running down one of Stiles' long fingers.

  
"Uh, are you okay?," Stiles asked, snapping Isaac out of his daze. He quickly turned his attention back to his ice cream.

  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Isaac stated, shrugging for the sake of casuality. He went back to eating his ice cream, cursing himself for acting so fucking weird.

  
"So what kind did you get?," Stiles asked, licking the strayed ice cream off of his finger. Isaac tried unsuccessfully to look anywhere besides Stiles' mouth.

  
"Just strawberry and cookies and cream, nothing fancy like your cone of diabetes," Isaac teased. Stiles scoffed.

  
"Uh, this combination of ice cream is the best. I feel like I really get the most out of my money this way," Stiles pointed out matter-of-factly before adding," Well, the most of your money, I guess."

  
"It's not like ice cream is expensive; there is no need to eat as much as you can in one go."

  
"Stop judging me just because I don't like boring ice cream like you do," Stiles rejoindered.

  
"Strawberry and Cookies and Cream are both classics, thank you very much. Everybody should love Strawberry and Cookies and Cream."

  
"I've never had Strawberry ice cream before," Stiles admited, taking a lick of the Birthday Cake scoop. Isaac raised an eyebrow.

  
"How is that possible? It's a part of the original Holy Trinity of ice cream flavors," Isaac said, surprised. Stiles shrugged.

  
"My mom was allergic to strawberries, so we never really had strawberry-related stuff in our house, including strawberry ice cream," Stiles explained casually.

  
"Well, you should definitely change this. Trying Strawberry ice cream is something you need to add to your bucket list," Isaac responded, looking over at the brunnette teen. They made very clear eye contact, lasting almost long enough for Isaac to question it.

  
Stiles slid closer to Isaac, still keeping eye contact. Isaac's nerves tingled slightly as Stiles invaded his personal bubble. With very easy motion, Stiles leaned over to Isaac's ice cream cone and took a slow lick of the Strawberry scoop. Isaac gulped subconciously.

  
"You're right; it is good," Stiles said after contemplating the flavor on his tongue for a second. He shot Isaac a grin, not caring about their closer-than-usual proximity. "I'll definitely have to add it to the Stilinski list of good ice cream flavors."

  
"Uh, yeah, you should do that," Isaac muttered, not really sure how to respond to this current situation. Thankfully, Stiles was more than willing to pilot the conversation.

  
"This is nice," Stiles said suddenly. "I mean, the you and me hanging out thing. We should keep doing it." Isaac could see something flash in Stiles eyes, something close to what he guessed was nervousness.

  
"Yeah, we definitely should," Isaac agreed. Relief seemed to wash over Stiles.

  
"Great! What are you doing Friday? Scott has to work Friday night at six o'clock so bro night is cut short this week. Maybe we could go see a movie?," Stiles suggested animatedly, a slight sense of nervousness in his actions.

  
"Yeah, that sounds fun, Stiles," Isaac answered. Stiles shot him a grin that made his insides flutter like wings, seeming to knock his breath out of his lungs.

  
"Awesome! It's a plan, then," Stiles said cheerfully, going back to his rapidly melting ice cream. Isaac nodded in agreement because he wasn't completely sure of his ability to form words at that particular moment.

  
_'I am so fucked.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY IT DIDN'T TAKE A MONTH TO FREAKIN' UPDATE!
> 
> Woo! So finally we have some feelings happening! Also there is a lot of Erica and I love her so that was fun! =D
> 
> Comments/ critiques are more than welcomed! I love how you guys are supporting this fic. It truly makes me happy. =)


	8. Stiles

Stiles bit his lip in concentration, staring at Scott's TV screen with extreme focus. _'Careful, careful,'_ he repeated in his head, slowly moving the joystick in his hands, scanning the fields in his screen. A smirk spread on his lips as he found his target, pressing down precisely on the right trigger.

  
"BOOM, HEAD SHOT!," Stiles yelled, jumping off of Scott's bed, his arms thrust victoriously over his head. Scott let out a groan as he watched his character fall dead on the ground, 'You have been asassinated by TheRealBatman' flashing across his side of the screen.

  
"Stiles it doesn't even count! I'm on your team," Scott says exhasperatedly. Stiles shot him a grin, watching his best friend roll his eyes.

  
"Yeah but that's what makes me such a good asassin; you never expect me coming,"Stiles pointed out, plopping back on the bed next to Scott, returning to the Halo game.

  
"Jerk. You totally suck, dude," Scott said, going back to stalking the actual enemy. Stiles scoffed.

  
"You're just jealous of these fine skills, McCall. I totally do not suck," Stiles said, grabbing his can of cream soda and taking a long sip.

  
"I bet Isaac knows how much you suck."

  
Stiles choked very animatedly on his own drink, getting killed in the game in the process. He swallowed, breathing almost as loud as Scott was laughing. When he caught his breath, he paused the game, looking over at Scott.

  
"What do you mean by 'Isaac knows how much I suck'?," Stiles asked, his amber eyes gawking at Scott.

  
"I'm pretty sure you know exactly what I'm talking about, dude."

  
"Uh, actually, I have no idea what you are talking about." Scott rolled his eyes.

  
"Stiles, you totally have a thing for Isaac," he said to his best friend, a lopsided grin on his face. Stiles was pretty sure he could feel his eyes popping out of his head.

  
"Wait, why? When? Where? How? What?," Stiles asked, each question falling out of his mouth quicker than Scott could even try to process them. Stiles didn't care; he needed an explanation now and Scott was going to give him one someway, somehow.

  
"Well for one, you talk about him a lot," Scott pointed out.

  
"I do not talk about him a lot!"

"Uh dude, you totally do. It's nearing me-talking-about-Allison level."

  
"Okay, it is impossible for a human being to talk about another human being as much as you talk about Allison, Scott. There has to be some kind of law of physics that prevents someone from talking about somebody that much," Stiles said, recieving an eyeroll.

  
"Yeah okay, but that doesn't really change anything," Scott said. "Besides, point two, you are always checking him out."

  
"I do not check out Isaac!," Stiles retorted immediately. Scott just raised an eyebrow, causing Stiles to roll his eyes.

  
"Okay, there is nothing wrong with acknowledging that someone is technically attractive," Stiles continued defensively. "It's the same as me saying that you are technically attractive."

  
"No, no it isn't like that at all," Scott vocalized bluntly. Stiles stared at him, hoping that Scott would just give up and admit that he was right. Scott, however, decided to stand firm, causing Stiles to roll his eyes.

  
"Okay, you're right; it's totally not the same," Stiles admitted. "But that doesn't mean I have a thing for Isaac."

  
"I don't know why it's such a big deal, Stiles," Scott began, rolling his eyes, "It's not like you're straight, so it was bound to happen eventually."

  
Stiles had to admit that Scott had a point. In the midst of extremely awkward middle school-grade puberty, Stiles had went through a minor sexuality crisis. After a lot of extensive research (and a lot of surprisingly satisfying gay porn), Stiles had deduced that he was bisexual. The first and only person that he had ever told was Scott, who took the news like the loyal friend that Stiles was so fucking grateful for.

  
It's not that he ever felt like he needed to hide his sexuality or anything, he always just kind of felt like it was irrelevant. Sure, Stiles would be lying if he said that Jensen Ackles' attractive face was not one of the reasons he decided to watch Supernatural, or that he went to see Zac Efron movies solely because of his acting talent, and yeah, he sees hot guys on the street that he would defintely love to get acquainted with, but it just never seemed to matter. When it came to things deeper than who he wanted to put his dick in (i.e. almost everyone for one reason or another), he had always fallen for girls. Being in love with Lydia Martin most of his life didn't really give him much of a reason to come out to the world.

  
"Okay, so it is bound to happen eventually, but who says it will be Isaac? He is just a friend,"Stiles replied, trying to sound reasonable. He checked the time on his phone, standing up with a slight stretch. He walked over to Scott's mirror, running his fingers through his hair a couple of times, trying to be somewhat satisfied with whatever was going on on the top of his head.

  
_'I really need to get a haircut.'_

  
"Are you checking your hair in the mirror before you go pick up Isaac?," Scott asked, already knowing the answer.

  
"Yeah, why?," Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow.

  
"No reason," Scott said with a grin before adding, "it makes sense that you would want to look your best for your man."

  
"I hate you."

  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
_'This is totally not a date',_ Stiles repeated for what felt like the one hundredth time in his head. Stiles was sitting next to Isaac in the darkened theater, their arms pressed against each other casually. After a rather winded argument, they both had come to the conclusion that the only movie they both could fucking agree on seeing was Frozen. After more arguing over who was paying for what (both Stiles and Isaac wanted to pay for everything, but both of them refused to step down), Stiles bought their tickets and Isaac bought the food before they found themselves in the top row of a theater filled with parents and children.

  
"Stop eating the popcorn or we're going to run out before the movie even starts," Stiles scolded, earning him a shifty look from eyes so blue, they could still be seen in the dim lights. _'That's so fucking unfair'._

  
"Uh, I paid for the popcorn, so I'm going to eat as much as I damn please," Isaac said, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth just to add to the stupid point he was proving.

  
"Uh, it's technically our popcorn, therefore I think your spontaneous ways of eating movie popcorn before the freakin' movie even starts is evil and must be stopped," Stiles pointed out.  
"I never agreed to have joint custody over the popcorn, Stiles," Isaac retorted.

  
"Well as ticket buyer, I am ruling that the popcorn will not be shared until the movie has started," Stiles decreed, swiftly taking the popcorn bucket out of Isaac's lap and placing it in the empty seat next to him, out of Isaac's reach. Just for the simple pleasure of fucking with his friend, Stiles popped a piece of popcorn in his mouth, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

  
Isaac frowned at him, and suddenly Stiles wanted to wipe that look off of his face. He wondered how it would feel to smash their lips together, how Isaac's tongue would taste in his mouth. He wondered how well their lips would mold together, how many times Isaac would moan in Stiles' mouth and light all of his nerves on fire at once. He wanted to just know what it would be like to just fucking touch Isaac like nothing else in the world mattered.

  
_'Okay Stilinski, this is not the fucking time or the fucking place to think about this.'_

  
Stiles cleared his throat, hoping to clear the dirty thoughts out of his head as well. The two teens sat in silence as the previews rolled, commenting in whispers whether they wanted to see each movie or not, making plans to see the ones they both were looking forward to together (much to Stiles unadulterated joy). When the movie finally started, Stiles handed Isaac back the popcorn bucket, more than eager to have a distraction other than the curly-headed blonde sitting next to him.

  
By the time Do You Wanna Build a Snowman had ended, Stiles' heart was thoroughly ripped out. He didn't know if he felt worse for Anna or for Elsa, but either way he was extremely pissed at their parents. _'Why the fuck would you hide away your daughter? Teach her how to control her powers, not conceal them you fucking asshats.'_

  
"Are you crying?," Isaac said suddenly, startling Stiles. Stiles blinked, touching the underneath of his eye, finding dampness. He instantly felt extremely embarassed and wished for once he didn't always cry like a bitch at stupid Disney movies.

  
"Shut up," Stiles whispered back, not really having a good comeback. He braced himself for Isaac's surely sarcastic retort but it never came. Instead he felt long fingers coming to rest on the back of his hand, squeezing ever so lightly in what Stiles could only guess was supposed to be a comforting guesture. For something that was supposed to calm him, Isaac's hand on top of his own made him really fucking nervous.

  
Very, very hesitantly, Stiles turned the hand that Isaac was holding, carefully intertwining their fingers together. He gulped slightly when Isaac gave his hand a light squeeze, never breaking his attention from the silver screen nor stopping the constant stream of popcorn leading into his mouth. Stiles fidgeted slightly, a fluttering feeling filling his stomach because _'Holy shit, holy shit, we are holding hands. We are fucking holding hands in public on this fucking not date thing. Why is this happening?'_

  
"Stop hogging the popcorn," Stiles whispered, more because he felt like he needed to say something than him actually wanting the popcorn. Then again, Stiles was always hungry, so the popcorn was kind of a bonus. Isaac just rolled his eyes, handing the bucket over to the shorter teen, never breaking his physical connection with Stiles' hand.

  
Stiles popped a couple of pieces of popcorn in his mouth clumsily, a few kernels falling on the ground. He barely tasted the buttery food, concentrating a lot more on the perfect way Isaac's hand seemed to fit with his own. He glanced over at the stupidly attractive guy next to him, saw the twinkle in his eye as he chuckled in agreement with reindeers being better than people. He wasn't saying that Scott was right with the whole being infatuated thing, but Stiles couldn't help but feel like he wouldn't mind spending most of his Friday nights like this, just him and Isaac with their hands interlaced together so perfectly, almost like they were made to be together.

  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Stiles would be a liar if he said he didn't cry multiple times during Frozen. Nothing made him emotional in the way that Disney movies did. Each time he made some sort of noise, whether it be a gasp or a snort, he could feel Isaac giving his hand a light squeeze. Even as he was sprawled across his bed, the Frozen soundtrack illegally downloading onto his laptop, his hand still tingled from where Isaac touched him.

  
Stiles let out a groan of frustration, barrying his face in his pillow. This was so fucking unfair. Of all people for Stiles to find annoyingly attractive, it just had to be Isaac Lahey. It wasn't as if he really thought about ever dating him, at least not until Scott had to bring up the possibility of Stiles liking Isaac unplatonically.

  
_'Scott is a bag of dicks.'_

  
Stiles rolled over to his laptop unceremoniously, checking his download. He sighed, noting that it had a lot to go. Stiles was brought out of his concentration when a light caught the corner of his eye. He grabbed his phone, reading the notification that he had a text message from the very person he just couldn't get out of his head.

  
\--Isaac Lahey- 9:23 P.M.  
Are you still crying over Frozen?

  
\--Stiles Stilinski- 9:24 P.M.  
IT WAS TRUE LOVE, ISAAC. TRUE. LOVE. OF COURSE I AM STILL CRYING ABOUT IT.

  
Really, Stiles did not understand how people like Isaac aren't completely wrecked emotionally by sad animated people and their cute songs. Isaac desperately needed to get more in touch with his emotions.

  
_'I wouldn't mind if he got in touch with some other things, to be honest,'_ Stiles thought before groaning of slight frustration. Not-so-friendly thoughts about Isaac seriously needed to stop. He was starting to feel kind of creepy.

  
\--Isaac Lahey-9:27 P.M.  
Damn if you are still that upset, you can hold my hand again. I don't mind. :p

  
If Stiles had been drinking something, he would have choked. Straight guys really shouldn't stay stuff like that, it could give off the wrong impression (that impression being that Stiles would possibly have a chance if he wanted one).Plus, Stiles was already trying to suppress some very aggressive emotions and he did not need Isaac working against him right now. He typed out a quick 'brb' in reply to his friend (just friend and nothing more), deciding to attempt to wash away all of his Isaac-related thoughts in the shower.

  
Stiles walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He quickly unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the ground along with his belt. His shirt quickly followed, his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle boxers joining the group of crumpled fabric on the ground shortly after. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair subconciously before walking over to the bathtub and turning on the water.

  
Once the water was the right temperature, he stepped in, letting the hot water fall on him, the warm beads running down his skin, drenching his body completely. He let out a hum as he poured some Garnier Fructisse shampoo in his hand, rubbing them together before lathering his hair until it was satisfyingly soapy. He began rinsing his hair, letting his mind wonder.

  
In all honestly, Scott was really jumping to conclusions about the whole Isaac thing. Sure, Stiles did kind of talk about him a lot, but it wasn't like he could really help it. After all, Isaac and him seemed to click in a lot of ways, from hobbies to music taste. Stiles even found Isaac's responses to his sarcastic comments annoyingly exciting. Plus there was the fact that they literally could not go two hours without talking to each other.

  
Stiles could picture Isaac in his mind and again, he couldn't stress how unfair life was. It was unreal for such curly fucking hair and unrealistic blue eyes to be put together on one inconvieniantly gorgeous head. It was like God took a little bit of everything good, put it in one package, and fucking dropped him off in Beacon Hills. Stiles could feel everything, from the way Isaac's lips formed an irritating smirk to the way their skin felt so electric when connected to the way his tongue slowly traced his lips when he didn't think Stiles was paying attention, pooling into intense warmth in his lower abdomen.

  
_'Son of a fucking bitch.'_

  
Stiles slowly ran his hand down his stomach, his fingers gently brushing the light happy trail of short, brown hair. His body was reacting quicker than his mind could talk him out of it. With an aggravated sigh, he surrendered to his body's growing desires and wrapped his hand around his stiffening cock.

  
Stiles closed his eyes, starting to pump his hand up and down his dick, his imagination allowing him to pretend that it was Isaac's slender fingers going to work instead of his own. He pictured Isaac standing right there with him, that fucking smirk driving him wild like always.

  
He bit his lip as he imagined tangling his fingers in Isaac's hair. His hand gripped just a bit tighter, running faster up and down his fully erect penis. Stiles visualized his lips smashed against Isaac's, skin rubbing against skin, hands not leaving a single inch ungroped.

  
A slight gasp escaped Stiles mouth as he imagined the unholy sounds that would come out of Isaac's mouth, the way Stiles' name would taste on the taller teen's lips. He couldn't even fathom how badly he wanted to hear Isaac just lose control completely. Every inch of his body screamed with desperation to feel him against his neck, his back, his chest, every inch of his body utterly submerged in every fucking thing that was Isaac.

  
Way to soon, Stiles felt himself come undone, his festivities ending with a sharp twitch of his hips and a deep groan. He panted as his hand began to slow down just a bit, riding out the rest of his orgasm. Everything in the room suddenly feeling so much hotter, the steam resonating from the heated water and bouncing off of Stiles' body. He let his hand fall to his side, feeling shakier than he did when he first stepped into the shower. He let out an exasperated sigh, resting his head against the shower wall, a frustrated feeling filling him with utter dread and hopelessness as he finally came to terms with what he had been so deperate to deny.

  
_'I am so fucked.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is a thing that happened. Feelings are definitely developing! Any comments/kudos are greatly welcomed! =D


	9. Isaac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Mal who made this beautiful gif/picset dedicated to this fic: http://newtalby.tumblr.com/post/74767353849/mals-neverending-list-of-favourite-stisaac-fics She is great and deserves all the love! <3

Not a single day had passed without Stiles and Isaac communicating. No matter if it was through text, phone calls, or Skype, they undoubtably found some way to be together. Isaac would be lying if he said it wasn't weird to be in constant contact with someone. Isaac was never a particularly likeable person, so having someone so determined to be connected with him was sort of out of his comfort zone. It was also pretty damn inconvieniant.

  
Stiles was way too inquisitive for his own good. He always knew when something was wrong and never took a simple 'I'm fine' as an answer. It was almost terrifying how easy Stiles was starting to understand him. He didn't really like being read like a book; there weren't exactly the nicest things printed on his pages. Still, he couldn't help wanting to be closer to Stiles all the fucking time.

  
There was something about Stiles that made Isaac feel relaxed inside, made Isaac feel like maybe life does get better. He itched to be more vulnerable around Stiles in a way that he had never been with anyone before and it scares him. Sometimes he thinks about telling Stiles everything, how easy it would be to say everything he thinks, to laugh about Camden and his mom, to tell him about his dad.

  
_'Hey Stiles, sometimes my dad beats me and locks me in a freezer. Yeah that was going to go over so well.'_

  
Isaac sighed inwardly, wondering once again why life was so fucking conflicting. He was way to tired for this. He had spent most of the night before in panic as his dad tramped through the first floor, their house filled with sinister howling and bourbon crashes. Isaac counted his blessings that his father hadn't bothered to pay him a visit. Still, the insomniatic night is what lead Isaac straight from sleeping in English class to afterschool detention.

  
Isaac's black ball-point pen ran across the skin of his right hand and forearm, doodling to fill up his time. He was never much of an artist, so his doodles were actually just strings of numbers. He compulsively sketched down the very well memorized phone number of Stiles Stilinski along the underneath of his arm, scribbling numbers around it until it was just a large, mathematical collage.

  
Isaac blinked when he felt a vibration in his pocket. He glanced up at the teacher patrolling detention, sliding his phone out of his pocket when he felt like it was safe. He looked under his desk, checking the message he had recieved.

  
\--Stiles Stilinski- 4:23 P.M.  
Hey you are almost out of detention, right?

  
\--Isaac Lahey-4:24 P.M.  
How do you know I'm in detention?

  
\--Stiles Stilinski-4:24 P.M.  
I asked Boyd. Now answer the question. :p

  
\--Isaac Lahey- 4:25 P.M.  
Yeah, it gets out in a couple minutes.

  
\--Stiles Stilinski- 4:25 P.M.  
Cool! Do you want a ride home? You know, since Erica gave you a ride here and practice got rained out.

  
Isaac couldn't prevent the small smile that reached his lips when he thought about getting to see Stiles soon.

  
\--Isaac Lahey- 4:26 P.M.  
Yeah, that would be cool. :)

  
\--Stiles Stilinski-4:26 P.M.  
Awesome! I'm outside your detention room.

  
Isaac raised an eyebrow in confusion. _'What the fuck?'_ His eyes moved over to the door, seeing a very animated Stilinski waving in his direction through the door window. Isaac waved back, carefully trying to avoid being caught, before looking back down at his phone.

  
\--Isaac Lahey-4:28 P.M.  
How did you know I was going to go with you? I could have said no and you would have wasted all your time waiting for me. =p

  
\--Stiles Stilinski-4:28 P.M.  
Dude, I don't know how to break it to you but you aren't that unpredictable. :P Besides, waiting for you is never a waste of time.

  
Isaac gulped, forcing his suddenly rising emotions back down. Really, Stiles should not say things like that to Isaac; it was unnecessary and Isaac really was not worth such sentiment. Still, he would not be telling the truth if he said it didn't make him feel warm inside. He slid his phone back in his pocket, not really sure how to answer. He waited until the teacher dismissed him before gathering his stuff and heading out the door.

  
His eyes automatically landed on Stiles. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, actively typing on his phone (' _he's probably talking to Scott_ '). Isaac's eyes slowly roamed over him, taking a moment to thank whoever decided to invent skinny jeans. Honestly, Isaac really needed to stop. It was getting ridiculous; he was starting to think a maroon lacrosse hoodie with the number 24 plastered across the back of it was attractive just because it was on Stiles.

  
_'I swear he looks better every time I see him.'_

  
Stiles looked up at him with a smile, snapping Isaac out of his polluted daydreams. He watched as Stiles made the small gap between them even smaller, shoving his phone into his pocket.  
"Did I tell you that you are strangely plaid-less today? Because you are," Isaac remarked, a teasing tone residing in his voice. Stiles scoffed.

  
"You told me that at lunch. Geez, it's not like I wear plaid everyday," Stiles replied, rolling his eyes.

  
"Uh yeah, but you might as well wear it every other day."

  
"Says the boy that is half man, half sweater." Isaac couldn't help but look half offended, looking down at the navy and white-striped sweater he was wearing. Stiles grinned cheekily, clearly knowing that he won this round. Isaac rolled his eyes.

  
"Whatever, let's just go," Isaac muttered, walking down the hallway with the clearly satisfied Stilinski. They made their way through the school, idle chatter and comfortable silence filling their short journey. They exited the school, standing outside under the awning and _'Holy fucking shit'._

  
"It's a fucking monsoon out here," Isaac commented, looking into the extremely heavy rainstorm. California could be so fucking fickle with the weather and it was probably one of Isaac's least favorite things about living in California.

  
"Okay, we need a game plan," Stiles commented, pulling his hood over his head and pulling it tight. "The plan is we are going to run like hell, then wait out the rain in Roscoe. Got it?"

  
"Got it, Coach," Isaac replied, groaning inwardly. _'I really should invest in something with a hood.'_

  
"Okay, ready, set, go!," Stiles said, grabbing Isaac's hand before taking off. Isaac's breath caught in his throat momentarily when he felt the warmth of Stiles' hand around his own. His hand tightened around the other's, his legs hurrying to stay next to Stiles. They cut through the storm together, hand-in-hand, until they reached their own personal salvation.

  
Stiles let go of Isaac's hand to fumble around for his keys, unlocking his jeep, both of them quickly sliding into the backseat and shutting the doors. They both took a moment, catching their breath as the cold started to sink in from their wet clothes.

  
"Hey, can you put on the heat?," Isaac asked, looking over at Stiles. He found his air catching in his throat once again when he noticed that Stiles was in the process of pulling his damp hoodie off. Isaac was mesmerized by the way his white undershirt came up ever so slightly, his happy trail clearly on display. Isaac's tongue ran slowly across his lips, thinking about other things he would love to put his tongue on.

  
"Well, I'd love to but-hey, is something wrong?" Isaac blinked, looking up at Stiles who was giving him a very odd look that he couldn't read for the life of him. He assumed it had to deal with the fact that he had very obviously been staring at him.

  
_'Wow, I'm not obvious at all. Son of a fucking bitch.'_

  
"No, no, I'm alright,"Isaac said, swiftly trying to regain his composure.

  
"Alright, like I was saying, I'd love to turn the car on for you, but gas money does not grow on trees so I'm afraid you are just going to have to suffer," Stiles said with false sympathy. Isaac let out an exhasperated groan, earning himself a snort.

  
"Geez, don't be so pouty," Stiles remarked, "I think there is a blanket in the back." He scurried onto his knees, digging in the back of his jeep. Isaac forced himself to avoid staring at Stiles ass by pulling off his damp, heavy sweater, tossing it on the floorboard with Stiles hoodie. He straightened up his black undershirt before running a hand through his drying hair.

  
Stiles plopped back down next to Isaac, shifting until his left side was pressed against Isaac's right. Isaac watched as Stiles awkwardly unfolded the red, fleece blanket, draping it over both of them before snuggling into it's much appreciated warmth.

  
"Do you always keep blankets in your car for these occassions?," Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow.

  
"Uh, no actually, my mom used to always keep a blanket in her car incase of emergency. I guess she really knew what she was talking about," Stiles said with a soft smile, a far away look in his eyes. Isaac bit his lip, shifting in slight discomfort.

  
"Your mom sounds smart," Isaac commented, not really sure what to say.

  
"Yeah," Stiles agreed, a genuine smile spreading across his soft-looking lips. "She was ridiculously clever and was always helping me play tricks on my dad when I was little. She was literally the greatest."

  
"She sounds a lot like you," Isaac said suddenly. Stiles looked at him, a bit of confusion reflecting in his amber eyes.

  
"What?"

  
"She sounds like you. I bet you are just like her," Isaac observed honestly, searching Stiles' eyes for some type of approval. They sat like that for what felt like forever, just blue eyes staring at amber, the sound of rain and wind filling the silence, Stiles staring at Isaac like he was really seeing him for the first time.

  
"Thanks, Isaac," Stiles vocalized softly,"that...that means a lot to me."

  
"Don't mention it, Stiles," Isaac replied, still stuck on the way his name sounded when it came out of Stiles' mouth. A warm pause filled the car, a feeling of perfection resting in Isaac as he took in this moment: the soft darkness, the slowing rain, the almost too soft blanket, and Stiles sitting there like nothing else outside of the car mattered. Isaac suddenly realized that he would be perfectly fine staying like that forever.

  
"So," Stiles said, breaking the tension. "What's on your arm?" Isaac narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about until he remembered detention.

  
"Oh, this?," he said, raising his right arm, revealing the doodled numbers he had covered it with. "I got bored in detention," he explained casually. Stiles nodded slightly, taking Isaac's drawn on arm in his hands, startling Isaac not for the first time that afternoon.

  
"Are these numbers? Why numbers?," Stiles asked, examining Isaac's arm closely in the dim light. Isaac bit his lip, not sure really how to answer.

  
"Um, well I'm not really much of an artist. Besides," Isaac paused, hesitating momentarily, taking in a breath,"Numbers calm me down."

  
"So you just do math all the time?," Stiles inquired, gently tracing his finger across each line, never missing a single integer. A chill ran up Isaac's spine that he forced himself to ignore.

  
"Uh, kind of. It's usually just counting things."Isaac wasn't sure why he was telling Stiles this; he had never told anyone about this. Then again, no one ever wanted to know.

  
"But you have to be good at math if you spend all your time counting," Stiles stated, keeping his attention on Isaac's arm like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It was a bit odd, but it wasn't particularly uncomfortable.

  
"Well, it's the only class I have an A in, so I guess I'm not fucking up that bad. At least, no where near as bad as I'm fucking up in Harris' class."

  
"Ha, I can't help you there, dude. Harris treats me like I fed his first born child to a freakin' python on Christmas day,"Stiles pointed out with an exaggerated sigh, before continuing, "so if you are so fucking good at numerical things, how many minutes are in a day?" Isaac blinked, thinking for a moment.

  
"1,440 minutes."

  
"How many minutes in a week?"

  
"10,080."

  
"How many minutes in a month?"

  
"44,640."

  
"How many minutes in a year?"

  
"525,600 minutes."

  
"How you measure a year in the life?"

  
"Wait, what? I don't understand the que-"

  
"HOW ABOUT LOVE?," Stiles suddenly belted out theatrically, scaring the living shit out of Isaac. He jumped, pulling his arm away from Stiles out of surprise.

  
"Okay, what the fuck are you talking about?," Isaac asked, staring at Stiles like he had lost his mind.

  
"Ummmm Rent? You know, Seasons of Love?,"Stiles said, looking at Isaac like he was was the one that had lost his mind.

  
"I still have no idea what you are talking about."

  
"How the hell have lived on this planet for 17 years and yet you have never heard the song Seasons of Love from the musical Rent? That is unheard of," Stiles stated plainly, staring at Isaac.

  
"I have never heard of that before in my life. I'm not a fan of musicals, though."

  
"Not even Disney musicals? Like, you know, Hercules?," Stiles asked raising an eyebrow.

  
"I've never seen Hercules. I didn't watch a lot of Disney stuff as a kid," Isaac said casually, shrugging. It never really was a big deal for him. Stiles, on the other hand, looked personally offended.

  
"It's like I don't even know you,"Stiles uttered, shaking his head in false disappointment. "We will definately have to fix this Disney deprivation you have been exposed to, but first, you are listening to Seasons of Love from Rent," he declared, taking Isaac's arm back like it belonged to him. He found where he had left off and quickly went back to tracing the numbers decorating his arm.

  
"Yeah, okay. I'll get right on that,"Isaac said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

  
"This calls for a new mixed CD," Stiles declared, not really sounding like Isaac had another choice in the matter. Isaac tried to think of something sarcastic to say but really, he didn't want to object. If Stiles' second CD was even remotely like the first, Isaac honestly couldn't wait to recieve it.

  
Isaac shifted slightly, pressing closer to Stiles, a soft smile falling on his face when Stiles didn't move away. He let out a soft sigh of something resembling content, closing his eyes. He concentrated on the soft feeling of Stiles' skin on his own, long fingers tracing soft skin like Isaac's body was the most interesting thing Stiles had ever seen (which was great, because Stiles was by far the most interesting thing Isaac had ever seen). A laugh filled the silence unanticipatedly.

  
"What?," Isaac said, opening his eyes and looking over at Stiles.

  
"Is this my phone number?"

  
_'Shit.'_

  
"No, why would I write down your phone number?,"Isaac said in quick defense, taking his arm away from Stiles' reach.

  
"Dude, that so was my number!"

  
"Shut up, it wasn't."

  
"Don't feel embarrassed; I can't really blame you for falling for the Stilinski charm," Stiles announced with a smirk, flexing his arms clearly for the purpose of showing off. "I mean, who could say no to this hot body?"

  
"You are such a fucking dork," Isaac groaned, rolling his eyes, trying to hide the hastily approaching smile. Isaac pulled out his phone casually, checking the time.

  
"Shit, it's already 6,"Isaac said with a sigh. "I need to get home." He really didn't want to go home, feeling much safer just sitting in Stiles' jeep. Still, he knew that he would have to return to reality eventually.

  
"Oh, okay. It looks like most of the rain cleared out so we are good to go," Stiles said, gathering up the blanket and tossing it in the trunk. Isaac watched as Stiles got out of the back of the jeep and got in the front, following in suit.

  
Stiles shot Isaac a smile, turning up the stereo until The 1975 completely filled the jeep. Isaac listened as Stiles sang the lyrics to She Way Out, smiling softly. He knew that the next CD he made Stiles had to be important. It had to explain to Stiles things Isaac wasn't sure he could say himself. He just hoped he didn't royally fuck this up.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
_'Okay, I'm royally fucking this up.'_

  
Isaac groaned, staring at his laptop. Making a second mixed CD seemed easy until he actually had to do it. It was already midnight and he wasn't sure if he was going in the right direction at all. He wanted to be able to really express something through each track.

  
_'I don't want to express too much, though. That would be fucking weird.'_

  
Isaac wanted Stiles to feel something (hopefully something that involves being attracted to the taller teen) when he listened to the songs. He wanted Stiles to understand what Isaac just couldn't seem to say.

  
_'Ugh, I can't believe I'm freaking out over a stupid CD. When did my life turn in to a fucking chick flick?'_

  
Isaac let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes glaring over the track list, reading each title in his head:

  
1\. Wake Me Up- Ed Sheeran  
2\. Be Mine- Ellie Goulding and Erik Hassle  
3\. Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You- The Arctic Monkeys  
4\. Your Song- Elton John  
5\. 18th Floor Balcony- Blue October  
6\. Hear You Me- Jimmy Eat World  
7\. Baby I'm Yours- The Arctic Monkeys  
8\. Out Of My League- Fitz and The Tantrums  
9\. Up All Night- Best Coast  
10\. Thank You- Dido  
11\. Sweater Weather- The Neighborhood  
12\. Skinny Love- Bon Iver  
13\. Wolf- Now, Now  
14\. Us- Regina Spektor  
15\. Falling For You- The 1975  
16\. Overjoyed- Bastille  
17\. I Won't Share You- The Smiths

 

Isaac let out a disgruntled "fuck it", choosing to burn the CD. He would just have to deal with this selection and if Stiles didn't like it, that would be Stiles' problem. Isaac laid back on his bed, the sound of the disc rotating in the drive of his computer echoing softly through the room. He really did want Stiles to like it, though. With every ounce of his being, he hoped the CD was good enough for Stiles.

  
_'I hope I'm good enough for Stiles.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well things are definitely getting romantic, huh? :) I hope you guys are still enjoying this fic! All of your kudos/bookmarks/comments really mean a lot to me. :)


	10. Isaac

The rest of the week went by in a Stilinski-related blur. The day after the rain poured, Stiles and Isaac had exchanged their second round of CDs. Stiles greeted the CD like it was the best thing he had ever recieved and Isaac was pretty sure Stiles being in his life was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Isaac had blasted Stiles' CD on repeat throughout the week, the lyrics and track list permanently engraved in his mind. In class he would find his mind wondering to thoughts of Stiles, doodling out his new favorite track list absentmindedly:

1\. Seasons Of Love- Rent

2\. We Found Each Other In The Dark- City and Colour

3\. I've Got This Friend- The Civil Wars

4\. Do You Realize- The Flaming Lips

5\. Tongue Tied- Grouplove

6\. Accidently In Love- The Counting Crows

7\. Love Will Tell Us Where To Go (Acoustic)- Bridgit Mendler

8\. I Would Do Anything For You- Foster The People

9\. You Make My Dreams Come True- Hall & Oats

10\. I Really Want It- A Great Big World

11\. Beach- San Cisco

12\. You and I- One Direction

13\. Light A Roman Candle With Me- Fun.

14\. It's Alright-Matt and Kim

15\. Rocks- Imagine Dragons

16\. I Wanna Be Yours- The Arctic Monkeys

17\. Handsome Devil- The Smiths

Isaac couldn't help but smile, amusing the thought that Stiles had taken just as much time as he did hand picking each track. It felt like the CD carried so much more weight with it than the first one. The first one felt new and exciting, like the start of a new adventure, but this one seemed like it just meant more. Isaac couldn't explain why, not sure if it had to do with his own feelings muddling the truth or the fact that Stiles had used a very well-placed Arctic Monkeys song, but the thought of somebody putting so much effort into something for Isaac left an unknown feeling bubbling in his chest. The thought that Stiles had put some kind of meaning behind every song made him feel happier than he had in a long, long time.

_'What the fuck is happening to me? My life sounds like an 80's movie.'_

The thing was, Isaac's life was not anything like that. No one was going to choose him over the hot girl in school, he wasn't going to ride off into the sunset on a lawnmower, and he wasn't going to kiss the man of his dreams in front of a birthday cake. John Hughes had no part in writing the script that was Isaac's life. There was no garuntee that Isaac would have a happy ending; it's possible that Isaac had already experienced the best years of his life. Like his mom used to tell him before she died, 'happy beginnings and happy endings seldomly occur in the same story'.

Isaac let out a sigh, shaking negative thoughts out of his head. Today was supposed to be a good day, not a day filled with nostalgia and depression. His school was having faculty inservice, meaning that school was closed on that Friday. By some miracle, his long weekend coincided with his dad's fishing trip with whoever his dad actually talked to. This meant that Isaac got to enjoy three school-less, dad-less days. He was so thrilled, he felt as fucking high as a kite.

Isaac ran his fingers through his hair as he stared in the mirror, trying to get his curls to lay in a semi-nice fashion. He was celebrating his first day of freedom by cashing in his invite to this week's Friday Scott-Stiles Bro Night (even though it started at noon since it was, as Stiles said, "a special occassion"). Apparently he had a day/night of movies to look forward to but most importantly, he was invited to sleep at Stiles' place for the night.

It wasn't like anything was going to happen, but Isaac couldn't help but feel nervous. In all honesty, he was regretting agreeing to stay the night just the slightest bit but he didn't know when (if ever) he would get a chance like this again. Isaac grabbed his tooth broush, running it under water and dotting it with toothpaste. He began brushing his teeth, counting every back and forth motion he made with his hand ( _57_ ). He gargled some mouth wash, spitting it out in the sink and washing it down the drain, feeling calmer.

Isaac grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and walked to his room, closing up the bathroom beforehand. When he got in his room, he threw his toothbrush and toothpaste into the open dufflebag on his bed, the items landing softly on the rest of the stuff he packed already for the night. He glanced around his room, mentally double checking that he had everything he needed. His eyes landed on his cologne, contemplating if it would be weird to put it on for this occassion, quickly deciding that it couldn't hurt. He gave himself a few spritz's of Ralph Lauren before walking back to his bed and zipping up his bag.

Isaac took one last deep breath before plugging in his MP3, blasting the familiar sound of Stiles through his ears. He pulled on his dufflebag, grabbed his pillow, left his house and began the fifteen minute walk to Stiles' house.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Isaac found himself sandwiched between Scott and Stiles, no room for personal space on the couch covered in teenage boys. At first, Isaac felt awkward as hell sitting in Stiles' living room for the first time, Scott leaning on one of the arm rests of the couch and Stiles lined up against the right side of Isaac's body. He felt kind of stuffy and awkward, like he was in the line for the wrong ride but didn't want to embarass himself by getting out of line and making some kind of ordeal so he just went along with it. Besides, the last thing he wanted was for Scott and Stiles to stop talking to him because he got weirdly nervous watching a movie during Bro night.

Between the constant jokes and the excess of popcorn, chips, Little Debbie snack cakes, candy, and enough soda to fill an ocean, Isaac found himself relaxing. There was something nice about the environment; it was like he felt like how a teenager should feel on a Friday night, like he felt normal for the first time in a long, long time. By the time they had finished Captain America: The First Avenger and had switched it out for Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Isaac was quoting every major line right alongside with Stiles.

They tore through the first Rush Hour, Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, The Dark Knight, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, an ungodly amount of junk food, and the better part of four pizzas. Sometime between countless scenes, Stiles had made his way to turn off the lights, barely managing not to trip over Isaac's long legs on his way back to the couch.

Everything was laughter and sarcasm (mainly from Stiles). All of the moments, from Scott laughing so hard he literally fell off the couch to Isaac and Scott combining efforts to tease Stiles on mixing M&Ms with his popcorn, seemed to melt into one, solid night to remember. Isaac was pretty sure if somebody asked him what happiness was, he would describe how he felt in that exact moment.

"I need to head out, man," Scott said as the credits to an 80's classic began to roll across the TV screen, checking his watch, squinting through the darkness to read his watch. He let out a groan as he stretched slightly, shifting out of the comfortable position he was in on the couch."It's already 1 A.M. and I have work at 8."

"Who cares if you are just a little late, dude?," Stiles asked, a good influence as usually.

"Deaton cares and I'll care if I get fired, dude," Scott said, making his way to the switch and turning on the lights. A unanimous groan erupted from the boys as the room filled with an abundance of light for the first time in hours.

"So you aren't sleeping over?," Isaac asked even though the answer was pretty obvious by the fact that Scott was putting on his shoes. Scott shook his head.

"Nope, tonight is all you and Stiles," Scott said. There was something about the grin that Scott was shooting Isaac that made him slightly uneasy, like he was completely missing something.

"I'll see you later, dude," Stiles said, obviously knowing that this was going to end up happening the whole time. Isaac wasn't sure why Stiles neglected to inform him about this, but then he realized it probably wasn't that big of a deal. People have one-on-one sleepovers with their friends all of the time, right? Isaac was clearly still adjusting to having friends that weren't Erica or Boyd.

Isaac watched as Stiles walked Scott out, tossing a farewell in his direction before he was completely out of his line of sight. Isaac gazed around the room, killing time before Stiles rejoined him. He looked at the pathetic remains of junk food that honestly had never stood a chance in the first place, counting the number of remaining slices of pizza ( _5_ ). He looked back up when Stiles re-entered the room, prepping the next DVD for them to watch.

"What's next?," Isaac asked,watching as Stiles loaded the DVD into the player.

"We are watching something that I know you have never seen before,"Stiles said and Isaac just knew he was grinning. He was about to sarcastically point out that Stiles' reply did not answer his question, when he saw the bold-colored title screen light up on the T.V., the word Rent stamped through the middle in large letters.

Stiles started the movie, turning the lights back off before plopping down on the couch. Isaac noticed that without Scott, there was more room on the couch and therefore more room between him and Stiles. He would be a liar if he said he didn't miss the feeling of Stiles pressed against him.

Isaac tried to concentrate on the movie, but his attention kept straying to Stiles. He couldn't help notice the way Stiles sang softly along to every song, the way he threw his head back everytime he laughed while the light from the television lit up his skin in the darkness and ' _God, he's so fucking beautiful'_.

Isaac slowly pulled his gaze from Stiles and back to the movie. Minutes felt like hours as they ticked by and Isaac felt like he just needed something, anything to happen.

"So,"Isaac started, clearing his throat. "This movie is exremely depressing."

"Yeah, but the songs are so catchy and isn't that like half of the point of musicals anyways?," Stiles replied and really, Isaac couldn't argue.

"Okay, you have a point there, but why Rent?" Honestly, the question had been bothering him for a week now. It just seemed very spontaneous. Then again, it was Stiles so he really shouldn't expect any less. A beat of silence passed before Stiles answered.

"It used to be my mom's favorite movie," Stiles explained, his tone softening slightly. "I used to watch it nearly everyday when my mom got sick. Sometimes, she would forget we had already watched it, so we ended up seeing it twice in one day. I practically have the whole movie memorized now."

Stiles laughed softly at the end, but Isaac knew neither of them thought it was funny. He always felt like a world class asshole whenever he made Stiles bring up his mom. It was like opening a door he couldn't close and he just wanted to make him feel okay.

Isaac bit his lip, reaching out and placing his hand gently on top of Stiles'. He watched as Stiles looked down at their hands, then up at his face and man, all he wanted was to kiss him, right then and there, but he couldn't, so he settled on intertwining his fingers with Stiles', shooting him a lazy grin.

And then Stiles was kissing him. Right then and right there, Stiles lips were pressed against Isaac's and for a moment, Isaac forgot how to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, sorry it took so long, guys! I hope you all enjoy the chapter! :D As always, comments/critiques/kudos are welcomed!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is the second ever Teen Wolf fanfic I've written and my first ever chapter fic. I'm glad to finally give my Teen Wolf OTP a shot! I hope you enjoy this and any comments/ critiques would be much appreciated. :)
> 
> I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO THANK MY GORGEOUS BETA READER JustLevi. Go read his latest Stisaac fic http://archiveofourown.org/works/965957/chapters/1895051!=D


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